Fuse of Armageddon (43 page)

“The border is about five minutes ahead.” Quinn slowed the car.

“It’ll take a lot longer than that if you don’t pick up the pace.”

“I’m slowing down because we need to stop for a minute before we get to the border.”

“Stop for what?”

“You’re going in the trunk,” he said. “After I tie you up.”

“I can see why you’ve worked hard to set me up to trust you. Because you knew what the answer to that would be.”

“I don’t expect you to like it. But I’ve been thinking about it, and it’s our only chance to get across the border. I’ve got to run a bluff and hope IDF doesn’t realize the shock-jockey specialists they sent to find us are MIA. If we don’t make it past the border, we’re dead. I don’t mean that metaphorically.”

“You’re asking for a lot of trust here.”

“You can keep your gun.”

“Still a lot of trust.”

“Let me explain the red heifer.” They were stopped now. Quinn turned and faced her. “Then you’ll know why this is so important. If I’m right—and I pray I’m not—it might as well have been that nuclear bomb you mentioned.”

“You sound scared.”

“I am.”

“All right,” Kate said. Headlights of an approaching car swept over her face. “I’m ready to listen.”

“I know about it because of security alerts within the CIA, the Mossad. For these agencies, the possibility of a pure red heifer being born is like a dormant volcano—one that nearly erupted in the 1990s but has been quiet for so long everyone else has forgotten it.”

“What happened in the nineties?”

“Hang on. Remember what I said about the Temple. It’s more than that. For some Jews and Christians, the birth of Israel as a nation was a divine marker proclaiming that the end times are upon the world. Though they disagree about whether it will be Christ’s first or second coming, fundamentalist Christians and Orthodox Jews believe that rebuilding a Temple is essential for the coming of the Messiah. But the Temple can’t be rebuilt unless the shrines on the Temple Mount are destroyed.”

“Even I can understand the political fallout there. We just covered that.”

“Right. From a political perspective, it’s obvious. Ownership of the Temple Mount is one of the biggest difficulties to resolve in the Mideast peace talks. From a religious perspective, it’s less obvious but even more profound. For many Muslims, any attempt to destroy their shrines is also a sign that the end of time has arrived.”

“How does a red heifer fit into this? And why should it matter enough to allow you to tie me and throw me in a trunk when I’m the U.S. marshal who is supposed to take you back to the States to face murder charges?”

“Because in the Bible, in the book of Numbers, God told Moses that in order for the high priest and the site of the Tabernacle, the precursor to the Temple, to be purified, they had to be sprinkled with the blood of a pure red heifer. Afterward, the heifer had to be burned, and its ashes were used in another ritual that cleansed the entire Jewish nation of sin.”

“You’re losing me.”

“It’s this simple: if someone has brought a red heifer onto the Temple Mount, it can only mean they’re preparing to kill it in order to perform an ancient purification ritual that will cleanse the site and allow the Jews to be purified so that they can rebuild the Temple.”

Kate let out a breath. “Now
I’m
getting scared.”

“I mentioned the 1990s. In 1996, a calf named Melody was born in the Jezreel Valley to a black and white Holstein, artificially impregnated by semen from a brown beef cow. Melody was entirely red, almost a freak of nature considering the breeding line. News about this red heifer began to spread, and within months, busloads of American fundamentalists and devout Jews were stopping by to see it. Fundamentalist leaders proclaimed it as one of the final pieces of prophecy with the approaching millennium. Orthodox Jews rejoiced too. Finally a heifer had been born that would allow the national purification necessary for rebuilding the Temple. All they had to do was remember the words found in the Mishneh Torah.”

“Don’t lose me here,” Kate said.

“A twelfth-century code of Jewish law.”

“I’ll never play you in Trivial Pursuit.”

“I agree it’s arcane, but not if you’re in the security business in the Middle East. The Mishneh Torah records that only nine cows in all of history qualified for the requirements of a sacred red heifer. It states that the tenth cow will arrive in the time of the Jewish Messiah, a time tradition foresees the Temple being rebuilt on the Temple Mount. A time that, not coincidentally, also signifies the end of time.”

“So if Melody was the tenth red heifer in all of history, then it would signal the time of the Jewish Messiah and the Third Temple. A red heifer is this important?”

“It’s that important. Imagine how much it infuriated religious Jews in 1967 to finally have control of Jerusalem after nearly two thousand years but then to have Israeli authorities leave the Temple Mount in Muslim hands.”

“I can.”

“To appease the religious Jews, the civil government needed help from the rabbis, who provided a religious excuse to dictate why the Jews could not and should not enter the gates of the mount. In the end, it was this religious mandate that prevented right-wing Jews from storming the Temple Mount and starting that holy war.”

“The excuse was . . .”

“Lack of a red heifer. According to Jewish religious law, anyone who comes in contact with the dead by touching a corpse or a bone, by entering a grave, or even by being in a place where the dead have been is rendered impure and cannot go through the gates of the Temple Mount. That basically means all Jews.”

“But—”

“During the era of the second Temple,” Quinn said, “priests purified themselves with a sprinkle of water mixed with the ashes of a sacrificed red heifer. There hasn’t been a red heifer since AD 70, when the Temple was torn down by the Romans. When Israel’s leading rabbis ruled that Jews cannot enter the mount without the same purification, the Temple crisis in 1967 was averted. Until Melody. Fortunately the heifer sprouted a few white hairs and became disqualified. The volcano stopped rumbling.”

“White hairs?”

“According to the Old Testament, the red heifer has to be absolutely pure. That’s why there have only been nine in recorded history.”

“You think the cow on the helicopter is the tenth?”

“I can’t think of any other reason it would be on there,” Quinn answered. “Think about it. If it is the tenth red heifer, all that remains is getting the animal to the Temple Mount, which is impossible because you can’t do that without provoking war, since the Temple Mount is under Muslim control.”

Kate looked at him. “Unless someone found a way to get men and weapons and a red heifer onto the Temple Mount without Muslims discovering it until it’s too late.”

Quinn looked back at her. “Like now. With the entire world believing that Palestinian holy warriors are the ones taking refuge on the Temple Mount. Think somewhere in those two helicopters there’s enough explosives to destroy the Dome and clear the way for a Third Temple? Because if they’ve got a red heifer and the ashes are produced, it’s no longer Muslim holy ground.”

“We’re talking about World War III starting tonight. In Jerusalem.”

“Worse. The previous two world wars were caused by political problems and ultimately had political solutions. But destroying the Dome would fulfill the end-times prophecies of all three religions. This would be a religious war. And religious wars never end. We’re not just talking about World War III; we’re talking Armageddon.”

Kate opened her door and stepped outside.

Quinn did the same, looking at her across the roof of the Fiat.

“You said five minutes to the border?” she asked.

“Five minutes.”

“Make it less if you can. I’ve never been tied up and thrown in a trunk before. I don’t expect it will be any better than it sounds.”

41

Temple Mount, Jerusalem • 18:53 GMT


I didn’t want to put you in a position where you would be accountable if this leaked before it was successful,” Brad said to his father. “Your worldwide ministry is too important.”

“This was funded by money diverted from my ministry. Without my knowledge.” Jonathan Silver was sitting on a crate, exhausted again, looking up at Brad, who paced back and forth in excitement, the proud son showing off for his father.

“I couldn’t let you know. That gave you deniability. It was my head on the chopping block the entire time. I did it because something had to be done.”

“A secret organization of Freedom Crusaders, you said. Recruited at my university.”

“A crusade!”

“From what you’ve described, it sounds more like a network of terrorist cells.”

“We used those principles,” Brad said defensively, “only because it’s an organizational structure that’s extremely effective. We’re serving God using terrorist tools against terrorists.”

“The ends justify the means.”

“Osama bin Laden formed a secret organization of Muslim warriors to fight the Western world. This is the organization that can fight back against him, using his methods. War is war.”

“With ministry money. By working with a Muslim terrorist.”

“He’s not a terrorist,” Brad said. “He’s an actor, paid to do this.”

“Actors don’t execute people.” On familiar ground as leader, Silver was finding his strength. “Four men from the tour are dead.”

“I was promised he was an actor pretending to be Safady. Promised no one would get hurt. I’m sure the executions were staged.”

“Who promised you this?” Silver asked.

“Sorry. I have to protect my source.”

“You’ve met this source?”

“Via Internet chat rooms. For his safety and mine. We’re protected. The intel that this source gave me was far more risky for him to give than for me to receive.” Brad was becoming impatient. “You have no idea how big this is. It involves U.S. and Israeli personnel. Men of power in various places. All of them dedicated to this cause.”

“You know that for certain?”

“My source delivered me information from different places. Wheels were greased when I needed it. I was like a general, served by some of the most influential people in the world.” Brad paused. “But let me emphasize: we’re protected. It’s a cell-group structure. I have only one link. That’s to my source.”

“Son, Safady is no actor. If your source lied to you about that, where else have you been deceived?”

“Deceived?” Brad gestured at the activity around them. “Look at the results. We’re about to reclaim the Temple Mount from the Muslims and rightfully place it in the hands of God again. The prophecies will be fulfilled. When the Temple is rebuilt, Christ will return.”

“This entire hostage taking was a setup?”

“I wanted to tell you beforehand, but it had to be absolutely secret. I was told I’d be directly involved in negotiations, and I hoped I’d have a chance to step in earlier and tell you.”

“The red heifer,” Silver said. “It’s truly without blemish?”

“The result of a breeding program in the United States. Seven years. Isn’t that a significant number? Doesn’t the fact that God made the program successful tell you that all of this has His blessing? And that we made it here to the Temple Mount? If all of this wasn’t ordained by His will, surely it would have failed.”

“You’re going to sacrifice the heifer? Tonight?”

“And sprinkle the ashes and reclaim the Temple Mount.”

“You don’t expect you’ll be able to keep the Temple Mount, do you?” Silver asked.

“You’re not listening,” Brad responded. “This is about men in very high places, including the Israeli government. Once we’ve accomplished this, Israeli military will remove control of the Temple Mount from the Arabs. It will finally be under Jewish jurisdiction for the first time in nearly two thousand years. The Temple will be rebuilt.” Brad’s expression showed that he could see his father wasn’t convinced. “Don’t you get it? It’s everything you’ve been preaching. All the money you’ve raised and sent here—it’s all for Zionism. We’re about to reach your dream.”

Jonathan Silver remained silent.

“When this is over,” Brad said, “we will be heroes to Americans and Jews. And especially to all the Christians across the world who have supported your ministry. This is a night to celebrate!”

Gaza/Israeli Border • 19:01 GMT


Quinn stopped just short of the border and unlatched the trunk of the car. He drove the remainder of the distance with the trunk lid swinging high.

At the crossing, large concrete blocks were set in staggered formation so that cars had to weave between them at a slow pace to get into Israel. On this side, the equivalent of a third-world country, the average daily wage was five dollars. On the other side, sharing the same land and geography, the prosperity of an economic and military machine ranked fifteenth in the world.

By design, there were only a few border crossings, and all were severe bottlenecks. It was a military necessity to prevent terrorists from penetrating Israel. Yet it was more than that. If Israel wanted Gaza to suffer, the soldiers didn’t let produce trucks through for days, until the produce was rotting and useless. If Israel didn’t want gasoline to reach the Gaza Strip, it squeezed the Palestinians by the neck here.

If Palestinians in Gaza wanted to reach relatives in the West Bank, they first had to pass through here. Some had not seen sons or daughters, brothers or sisters for decades.

The lights above threw a harsh glare onto the line of vehicles, and when Quinn arrived, it was apparent he would be forced to wait for hours. So he pulled out into the opposite lane, forcing cars into the ditch to avoid a head-on collision.

He knew if he drove too fast, soldiers at the checkpoint would decide he was a suicide bomber, and the tank at the crossing would destroy him before he got within a hundred yards. Instead, he drove deliberately to give approaching vehicles enough time to avoid him and flashed his headlights and blew his own horn, drawing maximum attention. This was an all-or-nothing gamble anyway.