He’d searched for the mine on their behalf, only now to be told that they’ve known of it all along.
Ahead, a vehicle was parked, beside which stood Tre Halliburton.
He and Clarke walked over and he said, “How far from here?”
“Maybe a ten-minute hike up that slope to the east.”
A full moon cast the forest in a cold, pale light. Pink heat lightning flickered in the far-off clouds. He’d brought two flashlights and saw that Tre held one, too, along with something else.
He motioned toward the object.
“GPS locator,” Tre said. “Unlike the Spanish, we don’t have to grope in the dark. I have coordinates for the cave site.”
“You really think this is it?”
“I do, Bene. Everything points this way.”
He introduced Tre to Clarke and said, “He’s Maroon, and already knows of this place.”
He handed Frank a flashlight. Through the moonlight he caught the concern on his old friend’s face.
“What else aren’t you telling me?” Bene asked.
But there was no reply.
Instead Frank turned and headed into the trees.
———
ZACHARIAH STARED AT THE AMBASSADOR. “HOW DID YOU KNOW I was in Prague?”
“Those friends of mine,” she said in English. “Did you check on Jamison’s body?”
“Of course. Impressive.”
She nodded at his compliment. “The local mayor here is also a friend. After you contacted him earlier, I did as well.”
“And how did you know I made contact?”
“That phone you carry. If you use it, the world will know.”
“Which means you have friends in the Mossad.”
“Among other places. But, like I said yesterday, they know nothing. This is between you and me.”
“What do you want?”
“A private moment, and I thought this an excellent location.”
“How did you know I would come here?”
“The lord mayor assured me that he would bring you.”
He was uncomfortable with her presence. Yet there was nothing he could do but listen.
“I have to say,” she said, “when I first reasoned out your plan I thought it preposterous. But, on reflection, I began to see that you are right. The Temple Mount is the perfect ignition point.”
Since the 1967 Six-Day War Israel had controlled the city of Jerusalem. As a concession after the fighting, the Supreme Muslim Religious Council had been allowed to continue to police the thirty-five acres known as the Temple Mount. This was the place where God chose the Divine Presence to rest. From where the world expanded into its present form. Where dust was gathered to create the first man. Where Abraham bound Isaac. Jews around the world faced toward it when offering prayers. Solomon had built the First Temple there. The Second Temple rose from the same spot. So holy was the site that rabbinical law forbid Jews to walk there so as to avoid unintentionally stepping where the Holy of Holies once existed.
“You have never mentioned what my plan is,” he said.
She grinned. “No, I have not.”
Maybe it was good she’d come. He had a few questions of his own.
“God has never rescinded His command in Exodus that we build a sanctuary for Him,” she said. “Muslim control of the Temple Mount is like a dagger in the side of every Jew, and they are not going anywhere.”
He knew what Islam called the mount.
“We should never have ceded control,” she said. “What did they say in 1967?
“Yet we gave the mount away and still lived in fear. Arabs threatened to invade every day.”
And they finally did. In 1973. The Yom Kippur War. Then, six years later, everything won during that conflict was given back at Camp David with the accords signed by Carter, Begin, and Sadat.
Damn Americans, interfering again.
He told her what he thought.
“We did learn one thing from those two wars,” she said. “Keep the Arabs fighting among themselves, and they will never have time to fight their enemy.”
