The Moses Riddle (Thomas McAllister 'Treasure Hunter' Adventure Book 1) (2 page)

BOOK: The Moses Riddle (Thomas McAllister 'Treasure Hunter' Adventure Book 1)
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FBI Director Hargrove
sat in the Oval Office wishing the President would meet with him in more relaxed surroundings, like he did with the other advisors with whom he had weekly updates. Why does the President always keep it so formal with me? he wondered. He longed for the early days of his job, when he and the President were more friends than coworkers, when they shared a relaxed jocularity. But after Ruby Ridge, Waco, and the series of increasingly more devastating terrorist bombings, their meetings had become more formal, and more difficult. During his weekly updates, they seemed to review the same crises over and over again. They were still focused like a laser beam on tracking terrorists around the world, still working on child porn and organized crime, but the low-hanging fruit was gone and progress had become slow, and methodical, and the President had become impatient.

Hargrove’s area of responsibility was without a doubt the one that had suffered most during the President’s term. At least the economic advisors, who met with the President in a less formal conference room, were able to get the Fed to lower interest rates, and push through tax cuts, and economic stimulus packages. Even when things were bleak, they normally left their meetings laughing, patting each other on the back, while he got to meet with the President alone, in the Oval Office.

Hargrove fidgeted with his pen, as he waited. This was not a regularly scheduled meeting but, rather a preliminary briefing on yet another potential crisis. Everyone on the President’s staff had been asked to watch out for anything that could further destabilize the country’s already fragile foreign relations. Issues that might adversely affect Israel, Palestine, or any Arab or Muslim State were of particular interest since the relationships were already strained to the breaking point.

Unfortunately, the issue that Hargrove needed to discuss with the President could impact both Israel and the Palestinians. The NSA had picked it up out of the blue, as part of routine surveillance, and Hargrove needed to move quickly. If it got too far along it could be disastrous not only for relations between the U.S., Israel and the Arabs, but also to the economy. In short, it could derail the four areas the President currently held sacred above all others; relations with Israel, relations with Muslim allies, the United States economy, and crime.

Finally, the door between the Oval Office and the briefing room next door opened and the President of the United States strode briskly in, only casting a cursory glance at Hargrove. Behind the President came the perpetually stoic Secretary of State, Dick Almond, and absentmindedly following Almond was Rashid Dahlan, advisor to the President on Arab affairs. Rashid walked slowly, obviously still thinking about the meeting from which they’d just emerged.

Secretary of State Almond took his usual chair in front of, and to the left, of the President’s desk. He wore his trademark dark gray suit and red tie. He was bald but had thinning white hair on the sides of his head which he combed straight back. He looked pale, his skin papery.

In contrast, Rashid’s suit was a ridiculous light gray pinstripe, unseen in the White House since the seventies. He had a dark complexion and wore the unshaven beard of his homeland. He wasn’t much to look at, but he knew Arabic custom, culture, and political philosophy better than anyone else alive.

The President moved quickly behind his desk, sat down, and started to write on one of the documents he’d been carrying. He wore a dark gray suit with a light blue silk tie. His black shoes were the shiniest Hargrove had ever seen. Sweat dotted Hargrove’s forehead and he felt his nervousness double. He hated himself for it.
He’s just a man
, he told himself.

Without looking up, the President said, “Well, Hargrove, what’s this emergency all about?”
Hargrove could tell the President was in no mood for idle chat. “Mr. President, there is something I wanted to bring to your attention without delay. An archeologist—an Egyptologist, to be exact—is getting very close to finding one of the most famous lost treasures of all time.” He paused for dramatic effect, but the President continued to write.
After a few seconds, the President said, “Good. Something to celebrate for a change. Is that all? Is that why you needed to see me, Hargrove? To tell me about the success of a treasure hunting archeologist?”
Hargrove didn’t like the inference he was wasting the President’s time with little more than a news story, so he decided not to hold back. “There’s more, sir. A lot more. The treasure that he’s after, and that we believe he’s close to finding, is the original Ten Commandments. The ones Moses received from God on Mt. Sinai.”
The President paused. He looked up for the first time and put down his pen. He was a smart man and Hargrove could tell he was synthesizing the information, linking the past and present, digesting the implications.
“Tell me you’re kidding.”
“No, sir, I’m not. I wish I was. I don’t need to tell you that the United States finding of a biblical icon that is tied to both the Jewish and Muslim religions, an icon that they would both claim ownership of, is the last thing we need right now, in fact, it . . . . “
“Wait!” The President interrupted. “What? What’s that you said? Tied to the Arab world? I don’t understand. I get the tie to Israel, Moses is the great Jewish prophet, his story—the first five chapters of the Bible, or the Pentateuch, is the Jewish Torah, but how are the Ten Commandments tied to Arabs, to Muslims?”
Hargrove continued. “Oh sir, Moses is not only . . . .”
Suddenly Rashid thrust a resolute index finger in the air. He spoke with the confidence that had evolved from advising people with little institutional, and no innate, knowledge of his subject of expertise. “Moses is one of the
great
prophets of Islam.”
The President looked at Rashid, bewildered. “What? Muhammad is the prophet of Islam!”
“Allah rewarded Islam with many prophets. Moses was given the Law, the Ten Commandments; David was given the Psalms; Jesus was given the Gospel. Yes, Muhammad, revealer of the Qur’an, is the most revered prophet, but of the lesser prophets, gentlemen, Moses is the most important. Both Moses and Muhammad are direct descendants of Abraham’s two sons, Isaac and Ishmael. They are inextricably linked. They’re blood brothers. All Muslims know this.”
Rashid had stolen Hargrove’s thunder by delivering the news that Moses and Muhammad were linked. Hargrove said, “It’s true, Mr. President. Unfortunately, here again, we have something that both Israel and Palestine, and therefore all Muslims, will lay claim to. If the Ten Commandments are found, both cultures will demand we hand them over.”
The President looked at Rashid. “Is this true?”
“If you find the Commandments, and the revered Ark that holds them, the Arabs will lay claim, as will the Jews. They consider it their duty to strive for possession of all significant religious icons. Moses is the supreme figure in Israel, he is to the Jews what Jesus is to Christians. Moses is also a central Muslim prophet with direct links to Muhammad.”
“Israel and Palestine have a long history of bloody fighting over religious objects and holy sites. As you all know, the most contentious battles have been over the hill in Jerusalem called Temple Mount by the Jews, and Haram al-Sharif by the Muslims. Both consider it an extremely holy location and time and time again it has caused peace negotiations to break down. Yes, Mr. Hargrove is correct. They will fight over this too. If an American finds it, both will demand that it be handed over to them. Of course there is only one Ark, only one set of Commandments.”
Rashid reflected for a moment and then smiled. “Actually, they might view this as the perfect way to make the U.S. chose between Israel and Palestine: between Jew and Muslim. A very dangerous situation, similar to playing against the fork move in chess. No matter what move you make, you lose.”
The President grimaced. He couldn’t afford to jeopardize relations with Israel, they were a key ally and gave the United States a reliable military presence in the incredibly volatile Middle East. Israel had been at war for much of the last fifty years with Palestine, a country that was 97 percent Muslim. The war had effectively pitted Israel against all Muslims. And, since the United States had always supported Israel, Muslims worldwide resented the United States. Because of that, the President needed to continue to walk the tightrope to maintain the limited support from Muslims that he currently had. It was the only way he’d be able to continue the campaign against terrorism without serious worldwide dissension. Choosing between the two was something that he couldn’t do. No President had ever chosen between Israel and Palestine, between Muslim and Jew, and if at all possible, they never would. It could spark World War III.
“Then we just won’t give it to either of them.” Almond spoke up.
“Then both will be angry,” said Rashid.
“Why do we have to announce this at all? For Christ’s sake this is going to be more trouble than it’s worth.” The President looked at Hargrove.
“I have a plan, sir. I’d like to review it with you in a minute. But first I’d like to call your attention to two more potential risks. Both domestic.”

More?

“Yes, two more. One could effect the economy, the other our crime rates. The one that could effect the economy is called the Jesus-Mary Effect. I’m sure you’ve heard of people who find these figures of Mary that cry or statues of Jesus that bleed? Or of the occasional images of Mary that mysteriously show up on buildings?”
The President nodded, he had heard of such things.
Hargrove continued, “People flock to these locations in droves. The media moves in and then there’s a snowball effect. Before you know it, there are pilgrimages, tours, vendors hawking plastic crosses . . . you name it.”
The President nodded again and Hargrove leaned forward. “I had someone on my staff look into this phenomenon, sir. A great deal of research has focused on the economies of the cities where these events occur. Studies show, overwhelmingly and conclusively, that overall spending in these cities drops by 20 to 30 percent. The economies tank. People stop buying durable goods and start buying candles and Bibles and rosaries. An economic disaster occurs every time one of these weird things show up. We already have serious economic concerns in this country. The last thing we need is for some guy to unearth the Ten Commandments, which have been missing for a few thousand years, and to have everybody in the country suddenly find religion and stop spending. Finding the Ten Commandments is big. Thousands of times bigger than a shadow on a wall that looks like Mary. Our economy could really be impacted, GDP growth could further deflate. We’d have an economic disaster on our hands. As you know, sir, it only takes a small percent decrease in growth for people to start screaming about the economy worsening, recession, and depression.”
Hargrove paused. The President looked reflective. He leaned back in his chair and focused on the ceiling. “‘It’s easier for a rich man to fit through the eye of a needle than through the gates of heaven.’ Or something like that. You’re right. This could be a nightmare. It could erase everything we’ve implemented to get things going again. Religion and the economy don’t mix. You said there was another concern?”
“Yes, sir. The other issue was brought to my attention by the biblical expert who advised me on this. It’s a little known fact that the Ten Commandments, which we commonly accept today, are not the real Commandments.”
“What kind of statement is that? Sure they are. I’ve been hearing the same Ten Commandments preached at me my whole life!” The President reached for the seldom-used Bible he kept in his desk drawer.
“I’ve got them right here, sir.” Hargrove held up his briefing sheet. “These are the accepted Commandments.” He read them aloud. “One: You shall have no other Gods before me. Two: You shall worship no idols or graven images. Three: You shall not take the Lord’s name in vain. Four: You shall keep the Sabbath day holy. Five: honor thy father and mother. Six: You shall not murder. Seven: You shall not commit adultery. Eight: You shall not steal. Nine: You shall not bear false witness. Ten: Do not covet thy neighbor’s house or wife.”
When Hargrove had finished reading them, he rose from his chair and moved to the window. “But, Mr. President, these are not God’s Commandments. Yes, they are ones Moses recited
verbally
in Exodus 20 all right, but . . .
Moses made a few of them up
. No one ever saw the original commandments because Moses broke them. After Moses broke the first set of tablets, God put His Commandments on a second set of stone tablets. The Commandments on the second set were the same as the ones on the first set. They are reviewed in Exodus 34. They are very
very
different from Moses’ version, the Commandments I just read to you. This . . . discrepancy . . . is evidently one of the reasons Moses broke the initial set of tablets. He
had
to break them! They would have proven that he lied to his followers.”
“You’re saying Moses . . . lied?”
“I’m saying that when he came down off that mountain and saw his people worshiping golden idols, he was so mad and disgusted, he came up with some commandments that would put them on the straight and narrow again. Call it a lie, call it a fib, I don’t know. All I do know is he didn’t recite the same ten that God had written in stone. The bottom line is that Moses’ version was more strict than God’s. Wait until I tell you which four he added. They are more strict than anything else on the list.”
The President said, “You know, all I can think about is how Charleton Heston broke the tablets in that movie where he played Moses. It never occurred to me that once they were broken, a second set would be made.”
“Yes, sir, and the second set has never been found.”
“So, what is the issue?”
“Sir, the real Commandments, God’s version, do
not
include the following rules: You shall not kill. You shall not lie. You shall not steal. You shall not commit adultery.” Hargrove paused, to let them sink in. “These Commandments are the cornerstone of our criminal justice system and the basis of our entire moral structure. Think of it. They are
not
included in the real Commandments. You can check for yourself in Exodus 34.” He paused again and then repeated, “They are simply not included in God’s version. It’s pretty scary, when you think about it. The most stringent rules we have, the ones that govern our country and have historically kept our people from becoming uncivilized heathens, are null and void. Not real. If this archeologist, McAlister, is successful in finding them and the media gets a hold of this . . . they’ll have a field day.”
The President was speechless. He knew Hargrove well enough to know he’d done his research. He could be confident the information was accurate. He ran his fingers through his hair. The implications were clear. An escalation of the tension with Israel. A possible fatal blow to the fragile Arab alliance, the implications of which were too numerous to contemplate. Negative impact on the economy. As for the effect on crime; killing, stealing, lying, and committing adultery were fundamentally accepted as some of the worst crimes any American could commit. Staples of hard crime. Since the terrorist attacks the American people were already spooked. They were dangerously nervous. Everyone had been given a lesson in how fragile the system was. He’d heard briefing after briefing on how if consumer spending were to get any lower the country could enter an economic chasm the likes of which had not been seen since the Great Depression.
It could be the beginning of the end. How could this be? How in the world could this be? He’d been through so much. He wasn’t sure he could deal with another big crisis.
The other men sensed his panic. Almond, who knew him best, could see that he was nearing his breaking point. Could this be the straw? he wondered. He was ready to suggest a solution when the President looked up.
“Recommendations, gentlemen?”
Hargrove jumped in, “Sir, my best agent recently concluded a case. He’s retiring soon, but he has time for one last assignment. He’s already got the archeologist under surveillance. I recommend as soon as the archeologist locates the Commandments, we move in and grab them. Total surprise. No one gets hurt. No one knows it was us. In and out, and we’ve got the Commandments.”
The President thought it over. He was looking up at the ceiling and without moving his head he looked at Almond and raised his eyebrows.
“If we ask him, would the archeologist just give them to us?” Almond asked Hargrove.
“Never. It’s the find of a lifetime. For an archeologist, it’s bigger than finding King Tut’s tomb. It means he’d be rich and famous. A legend. We’re asking the public to go on normally with their lives. To turn around and ask this man to give away the biggest archeological find of all time would not work. Plus, we have a profile on him. Apparently he’s . . . stubborn.”
Almond looked at the President, “Then it’s simple. We take it from him. We take it, stash it away, and the whole issue is averted. We simply cannot allow anything to happen that would piss off the worldwide Muslim community even more. Hell, the people running those governments are itching for us to screw up so that they can pull back their support.”
Silence.
Inwardly Hargrove prayed the President would approve his plan. This was an assignment he knew he could complete successfully. And he so desperately needed a success.
“What’s his name? The archeologist?” The President asked.
“Thomas McAlister, sir.”
“Poor bastard. We’re going to take one of the greatest treasures ever known to mankind right out from under his nose. After we’ve got it, if he talks, even to the media, they’ll think he’s lost his marbles. Do it, Hargrove. Keep it tight. No leaks. I don’t want to hear about it again until it’s done.”
Hargrove nodded, thanked the President, and quickly left the room. Finally, a slam dunk. This was what he needed. A project with a beginning and an end. One that would give him something to hang his hat on, when some of the others went wrong—which they inevitably would. He smiled on the way back to his office. “McAlister, you’ll never know what hit you.”

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