God's Lions - The Dark Ruin (17 page)

Looking over their shoulders for the man in the light suit, they continued along a cobblestoned path and over a slight rise. With the sun’s rays filtering through the trees and passing between the tall monuments, the smoky shafts of light created moving patterns on their clothing as they moved deeper into the cemetery away from the crowds. Alone now, the two stopped to get their bearings.

“It looks like I picked the perfect day for us to meet in this beautiful spot,” a voice called behind them.

Startled, the two froze as they stared between two monuments. Turning their heads slightly, they spotted a figure cloaked in shadow.

John moved quickly to place Ariella behind him. “Mr. Acerbi?”

Stepping into the sunlight, the man in the light suit extended a wrinkled hand. “Please, call me Eduardo. And this must be Lev’s beautiful daughter, Ariella.”

Moving around John, Ariella examined the man’s suit. “You were following us on the train.”

“Yes, that was me. I had to make sure you weren’t being followed. We have a lot to discuss today. Why don’t we walk together? I know a lovely little spot.”

“Mind if I ask you a question first, sir?” John asked.

“Please, be my guest. We’ll have no secrets between us this day.”

“Why did you choose this cemetery for our meeting?”

“I’m surprised by your question, Mr. Lowe,” Eduardo said, referring to John by his last name. “Especially coming from a young man who’s spent the past two years learning tactics from some of the best tacticians in the world.”

A glance in Ariella’s direction revealed John’s sudden discomfort. “I guess I’m still learning.”

“Then please, consider this just another lesson from an old man who likes to think of himself as a student of tactics, and the lessons I’ve learned over time have served me well in the world of business ... an endeavor much like combat.” Eduardo smiled as he walked between John and Ariella, holding onto both of them by their arms as if they were his grandchildren. “This cemetery provides literally thousands of hiding places, not to mention several avenues of escape. Spies have held clandestine meetings here for years for that very same reason.”

John glanced around at the thousands of tombs. “Yes, of course. I can see that now.”

Walking together with Eduardo, John and Ariella were slowly beginning to fall under the same spell the old man had woven over Leo and Lev the first time they had met in his small farmhouse in Foix. Instead of the titan of business they had expected, they were looking at a fatherly gentleman who seemed genuinely interested in the feelings of others, and they found it impossible not to like him.

“We heard you had a stroke,” Ariella said.

“A little bit of play-acting, my dear.” Eduardo released their arms as they reached a park bench. Sitting together, he smiled over at the two young people like they were long-lost relatives. “I actually collapsed in my garden, but I never suffered a stroke. I had what the doctors call a little warning sign ... a trans ischemic attack, which in layman’s terms means that the blood flow was temporarily blocked from my brain and I fainted. For a moment I thought I was dying ... that my time had finally come. But on the ride to the hospital I slowly began to regain my strength, and by the time I arrived in the emergency room in Bagdad I felt fine. It was then that a plan began to hatch in my mind ... a plan to escape from Iraq and make everyone think I was close to death.”

“But why would you do that?”

“It was a very necessary ploy to have me flown to my doctors here in Paris.”

“But that still doesn’t answer my question, sir. I mean, why didn’t you just hop in one of your corporate jets and fly here without having to pretend you were ill?”

“Because, young lady ... if I had appeared to be in control of all of my faculties, I would never have made it out of Babylon alive.”

Alon Lavi checked his pistol one more time before shoving it into his waistband and stepping from behind one of the many tall monuments in the cemetery. Along with a four-man team of Mossad agents, he had been tailing John and Ariella through the streets of Paris ever since their arrival, and they had just made the decision to get closer, thus providing greater protection in case something went wrong.
The Israelis always had a backup plan.

Walking quietly behind a row of stone tombs, the men were now in position to spot any threat to John and Ariella as they sat talking with Eduardo. Now that they had finally made contact with him, Alon and his highly-trained team knew their mission was moving into its most critical phase.

Moving in as close as he dared, Alon could just make out the profile of a man he had met only once, but right away he knew that the man doing the talking was Eduardo Acerbi and not some imposter sent to draw Lev’s daughter and son-in-law into some kind of trap.

“Why don’t we invite Alon and his team to join us?” Eduardo asked, his eyes reflecting a smoky shaft of light that had penetrated the tree cover above.

“I’m afraid I don’t follow you, Mr. Acerbi,” John said. “We’ve come alone ... just as you asked.”

“I don’t mean to offend you, young man, but are you really naïve enough to believe that Lev Wasserman would send his only daughter into a potential trap without some serious backup?”

“We’re telling you the truth, Mr. Acerbi,” Ariella added. “You wanted to meet with us alone, and we’ve honored that request.”

Acerbi slowly rose to his feet, tottering briefly before running a blue-veined hand along the back of the green painted park bench in an effort to steady himself. “You and your team can come out now, Mr. Lavi.”

Behind the nearest tomb, Alon froze. Just like before, in his small house in Foix, Eduardo Acerbi was aware of everything that was going on around him. Speaking quietly into his radio, Alon quickly advised the other team members to hold their positions as he stepped forward and walked toward the park bench.

“Ah, there you are,” Eduardo said. “It’s good to see you again, my friend.”

“And you too, Mr. Acerbi. Sorry about this ... orders.”

Jumping up from the bench, Ariella looked on in disbelief. “I’m very sorry, Mr. Acerbi. John and I knew nothing about this.”

“And I believe you my dear, but you must know it was the smart move. As much as he wanted to trust me, your father is incapable of letting his guard down, especially when it comes to protecting those he loves. He also knew that you and John had to believe you were alone, because people ... especially people like me, have a sense about such things. I too have eyes all around me, and they spotted Alon and his team when they arrived at the airport in the middle of the night.”

Alon’s face turned ashen. “How did you ...

“Like I said, Mr. Lavi, I have a core group of trusted individuals looking out for me, although at this moment I am truly alone except for the three of you and the men still concealed behind those tombs over there.”

“What do we do now?” John asked, peering at the wrinkled furrows around Eduardo’s eyes.

“Well, first of all, I know that the Carmela is on her way to Israel. And by now, word has reached my home in Babylon that I am perfectly well, which means there are men on the way here to kill me as we speak.”

“Kill you!” Ariella said, her voice rising a full octave. “But why ... who? I mean, are we talking about terrorists?”

“For now, let’s just say that I am standing in the way of a very powerful enemy ... an enemy that will stop at nothing until every member of the Bible Code Team is dead. By now they’ve most certainly discovered that I possess information that poses a grave threat to their plans, which means I am also one of their prime targets.” Eduardo paused to stare at the lengthening shadows settling across the park bench. After a moment, he looked up at all the blank faces staring back at him. “I’m afraid the enemy I speak of has been close to me for many years now, so you must believe me when I say that time is growing short.”

John sat back down on the bench and looked around. “I can’t believe all of this. We’ve got to get to the airport and get you on the next flight to Israel.”

“I can guarantee you the plane would never reach its destination.”

“How do you know that?”

“Those who seek to destroy me have very long arms.”

“What about your security people?” Alon inquired. “Those
eyes
you spoke of earlier. Where are they now?”

The old man smiled as he continued to support his frail body against the bench. “I’m afraid they are only eyes ... they have no weapons.”

“No weapons! What kind of security force has no weapons?”

“Cathars, Mr. Lavi ... Cathars. They’ve been my guardian angels ever since I arrived here in France, and even without guns they are more powerful than any security force on the face of the Earth, because they see everything around them. It is a trait they have inherited after spending seven hundred years watching what goes on around them to keep from suffering the same fate as their ancestors. But now I find myself having to call on you for my continued protection. The world is facing a grave threat and I feel it is my duty to sound the alarm. To that end I need men around me who can do more than just watch. That’s why I called.”

Alon stood still for a moment as he looked deep into Acerbi’s eyes. “Just tell us what you want us to do, Mr. Acerbi, and we’ll make it happen.”

“Just get me to the coast of Normandy ... and pray that those who wish to stop us haven’t already discovered where we are.”

THE VILLA IN ISRAEL

The mood onboard the Carmela was tense as the yacht turned into the channel leading to the harbor at Caesarea. Constructed in 22 BC by Herod the Great on top of an old Phoenician port, the seafloor around the harbor was littered with historical treasures, making it a World Heritage site. However, because of Lev’s connections within the higher echelons of the Israeli intelligence community, the Carmela was the only boat allowed to dock there.

Once the huge blue and white yacht had been secured to the dock, Lev and the rest of the team carried their sea bags down the gangplank and jumped into a couple of parked Land Rovers for the short twenty mile drive to Lev’s villa by the sea. Shortly before Ariella had been born, Lev Wasserman and his late wife, Carmela, had purchased two hundred acres along a section of the coast known as the Israeli Riviera, and it was there that they had built a small farming cooperative safe from the constant threat of terrorist bombings that had plagued Israel’s cities for so many years.

Turning off the main highway that paralleled the sea, everyone squinted in the sun’s reflective glare as it bounced off the sugar-white sand dunes that separated the villa from the sea. Standing three stories high, the imposing Mediterranean-style structure was set back from the beach, connected to the sea by a rickety boardwalk that ran through the dunes to the edge of a sparkling blue swimming pool surrounded by palm trees curved toward the land by the ever-present sea breeze.

People of various ages could be seen walking the property, the most noticeable being the young men and women of the villa’s security force dressed in olive-colored shirts and matching shorts. From the beachfront to the gatehouse to the fields, these dedicated young people could be seen everywhere, patrolling the property with radios and automatic weapons slung over their shoulders in an effort to protect their families from those who would see them driven from the land.

Scattered around the property, twenty smaller houses were tucked in among the vineyards, orchards, and planted fields that made up the farm. These single-family dwellings were used mostly by professors and graduate students who lived there free of charge in exchange for providing security, growing the community’s food, and taking care of the villa. In short, the entire compound was very much like a communal kibbutz—an environment Lev had been raised in and preferred over life in the city.

After stopping briefly at the gatehouse, the vehicles passed beneath an overhanging sign displaying both a Christian Cross and the Star of David before heading up a paved road to a circular driveway that fronted the villa. Stepping from the car, Leo looked back at the brown cross and blue star mounted over the gate—a subtle reminder to those who entered that the villa was home to both Christians and Jews alike, for all of the members of the Bible Code Team, including Lev Wasserman, were Christians, while some of those who lived on the compound were Jews.

Walking up behind Leo, Lev stopped to follow the cardinal’s gaze. “I remember the first time I brought you here, Cardinal. You were still just a priest then, and you and John had just escaped from those rogue Vatican security men in Rome. You two looked like two lost sheep when I picked you up at the airport.”

“We were two lost sheep, Lev ... until you took us under your protective wing. Without your help I wouldn’t be standing here right now.”

“Yes, those were interesting times.”

Leo squinted up at the sun. “I have a feeling our most interesting times lie ahead.” The two men headed for the house and made their way with the others down to the underground communications center located beneath the villa. Loaded with powerful computers and high-tech communications equipment in a glassed-in space that resembled a NASA command bunker, the underground center was the living, breathing heart of the Bible Code Team.

Entering behind Lev, Daniel and a petite girl with long blond hair crossed the room. “Ah, Daniel, I see you’ve brought your new bride down into the lion’s den.”

Sarah walked up to Lev and kissed him on the cheek. “Hello, Professor.”

“What have you been up to while your genius husband has been away?”

“I’ve been decorating our new house ... the small one next to John and Ariella’s. I’ve also been learning about wine-making. I love working in the vineyards here.”

“Good, we need more talented winemakers on the compound.” Lev eyed a moody and distracted-looking Daniel as he laid his laptop on the table and flipped it open. “What’s eating at you, my boy?”

“I was just listening to the radio. A suicide bomber just took out a pizza place in downtown Tel Aviv. When’s it all going to stop? I mean, can you honestly picture a lasting peace with religious zealots who use violence to convince people that theirs is a religion of peace? I can’t ... at least not in my lifetime. The chasm between the Islamic radicals and the rest of the world is just too deep. There’s something wrong with those people that no amount of talk will ever put right.”