104
Mount of the Ascension, Jerusalem, Israel 8:18 P.M., Monday, April 17, 2000
Hunter's riveting footage of Jeza's escape through the Golden Gate was delivered out of Jerusalem by special courier that morning. By evening, WNN had yet another ratings triumph.
Worldwide, the repercussions of the report were devastating. Pro-Jeza forces, outraged at the brutish attack on their defenseless Messiah, railed against their opposition through a long and bloody night.
In Jerusalem, however, the situation was quickly contained by the IDF, which had mounted a tight security ring around the Old City. The Ben-Miriam government, despite adamant IDF opposition, had allowed Jeza sanctuary inside the walls. Although the administration would have preferred Jeza not reenter the country at all, she was, arguably, an Israeli citizen. Indeed, despite the shocking revelations of the Leveque diary, many Israeli Jews, particularly the Lubavitchers and Orthodox sects, and even some members of the Knesset, still supported Jeza as a holy person, if not the promised Messiah.
The new head of the Jerusalem IDF, Commander David Lazzlo, had implemented a successful policy to lessen tensions. He had ordered that all perpetrators of violence in Jerusalem be arrested and transported to the city of Afula, approximately one hundred kilometers to the north. Two large, internationally funded U.N. holding centers had been established there-a separate internment camp for each of the two opposing factions. The effort had been helpful in removing some of the most aggressive and dangerous militants.
Feldman and Hunter had box seats to the entire operation. Nevertheless, without their visas, not secure seats. Before Alphonse Litti had left them Palm Sunday morning to seek out his Messiah in the Old City, the good cardinal had pledged not to abandon his reporter friends. Good as his word, he'd dropped by briefly Monday afternoon with the welcome word that he'd reunited once again with Jeza. She was safe, well hidden within the city, protected around the clock by legions of staunch supporters.
After the cardinal left, with evening drawing near, Feldman joined Hunter out on the balcony in the spring twilight. Below them, the effects of their Palm Sunday video could be seen in the unbroken streams of pilgrims migrating into the area. The numbers had easily doubled.
“Jesus, there must be millions of them!” Feldman marveled to Hunter, who'd been studying the crowds with binoculars. “I thought the IDF would've had better success sealing the borders.”
“Even with the U.N. helping now,” Hunter contended, giving his field glasses a rest, “the Israelis don't have the manpower to deal with this. When you believe you're about to face your maker, like all these poor bastards do,” he inclined his head toward the endless droves, “it's gonna take a hell of a lot more than a few roadblocks to stop you.”
They leaned together against the rail for a while, observing in silence the mass procession. “Just think,” Hunter reflected, “all that fanaticism converging from all over the globe, funneling into this one, sorry little spot. Yep, we're headin’ for one hell of a confrontation. And once again, you and me got a bird's-eye view.” He turned to go inside. “Too bad we don't have a program of events. I get tired just sittin’ around, waitin’ for something to happen.”
“Maybe we do have a program,” Feldman ventured.
The cameraman paused. “How do you mean?”
“Remember what Alphonse said about Jeza fulfilling biblical prophecies?”
“Yeah?”
“Maybe there's another way to look at that. What if she's
“Well, we all want to be more Christ-like, now don't we?” Hunter responded sarcastically, his curiosity abating.
“No.” Feldman screwed up his face. “I mean, what if she's
“The only real pattern I see,” Hunter pointed out, “is that she seems to pick her appearances to occur at the worst possible places at the worst possible times to create the most possible havoc!”
“Stay with me on this for a minute,” Feldman appealed. “Let's just assume that the Samaritans convinced Jeza that she's a New Christ, right? So that's who she's modeled herself after. And she's got this incredible microchip communications technology in her head that gives her instant access to all the scriptures and prophecies. So she studies the Bible and when she needs direction she simply refers to the life of Christ like a road map.”
“Okay, your point?”
“The point is, if she's using scripture for direction, what's her next move?”
“I don't know, I missed Bible school.”
“Look at the calendar, Breck. What's April 21?”
“I give up.”
“Good Friday, man! You know, the Crucifixion?”
This stopped Hunter cold and he gaped at his friend. “They're gonna nail her to a cross?”
Feldman shook his head rapidly. “No, no, not literally.” But then, in a spasm of alarm, he caught himself. “Hell, I don't know!”
Hunter began to formulate the logic. “So that's what's bugging Litti now. He knows what she's up to. She's biding her time until Friday to turn herself over to the Gogs to be crucified. Self-martyrdom so she can fulfill her destiny. Sick, man.”
Feldman's head was reeling with abhorrent images. “The Gogs may be fanatical enough to execute Jeza, but they wouldn't dare cruci-” He couldn't bring himself to say it. “They're too smart for that!” he insisted. “That would be playing right into her hands-the final validation of all these Christ parallels. It's self-defeating.”
“Unless,” Hunter countered, “they're really convinced she's the Antichrist. Then a crucifixion is poetic justice. Payback for the cruel way Christ was executed. Retribution. I mean, there are certainly enough crazies out there, I wouldn't put anything past ’em.”
Unwillingly, Feldman had to accept this reasoning. “Holy shit,” he whispered, and both men deflated slowly to sitting positions side by side on the rail. Feldman put his hand to his brow, thinking. “We've got to get into the Old City, Breck. We've got to get Jeza out of there.”
Hunter was wagging his head. “No way, man, the Israelis have it sealed up tight. The only way you can get in now is with a residency photo. And they'll only issue ‘em to people like Litti who were already inside the walls before the crackdown.”
“It's going to take a helicopter, then,” Feldman concluded.
“Nope.” Hunter shook his head again. “Restricted air space. The Israelis would shoot down any unauthorized aircraft before you could even get close. Look”-he offered Feldman his field glasses-”they've got artillery and troops stationed everywhere now. They're prepared for Armageddon.”
Feldman rejected the binoculars. “Dammit, then we've got to get the Israelis’ cooperation. We've got to get our visas restored!”
“Agreed.”
“I'm calling Sullivan to see if he's made any progress. Maybe our concerns about Friday will give him a little more incentive. And let's hope we get a visit from Litti tomorrow. We're going to need him.”
Hunter nodded, started to rise, then had a last misgiving. “But what if Jeza refuses to leave?”
Feldman bit his hp at this oversight.
And then a wry grin played across Hunter's lips. “On second thought-three big, grown men; one little girl. I think we've got all the persuasive tools we need.”
Feldman looked thoughtfully at his friend. “You may want to reconsider that approach, old pal. Let's not forget what she did to that altar stone!”
