Razak tried to absorb it. He was tempted to ask Farouq why the Templars would have hidden such extraordinary relics. But he knew the Keeper would only be able to speculate. It was obvious that the Knights Templar had been protecting an ancient secret. Knowing something of the tenuous relationship between the pope and the mercenaries during that time, it was quite possible that this knowledge had been retained as insurance— perhaps even blackmail—against the Church. It certainly helped explain the Templars’ rapid rise to power. But the piety in Hugues de Payen’s letter had suggested something else. Perhaps the Templars had retained noble intentions? After all, they too had once been protectors of this place. “How were you able to convince the Vatican to take action?”
“Easily. I spoke to Father Patrick Donovan, the Vatican Library’s head curator. He is the one man I knew of who would have been absolutely aware of the Ephemeris Conlusio’s existence and, much more importantly, its implications. I mentioned it by name and he recognized it immediately. A few days later you delivered it to him in Rome. I correctly assumed that he would escalate things fast.”
“What if he hadn’t recognized its name?”
Farouq scoffed. “That wouldn’t have really mattered. I would still have persuaded him. The message couldn’t have been ignored.”
“You took a very big risk doing all of this.”
Based on that reaction, Farouq thought it best not to inform Razak that he’d further aided the thieves by smuggling explosives into Jerusalem— supplied by his Hezbollah contacts in Lebanon equally eager to topple the state of Israel. A second procurement had also been made at the thieves’ behest—a heavy-duty coring drill that Farouq had been told to purchase abroad in cash. Hezbollah had helped with that too.
“Probability, Razak, my friend. It’s all about odds on a favorable outcome. In this case the numbers were in our favor, and I acted as I saw fit. I’ve said before that averting discovery of Jesus’s body preserves the teachings of both Islam and Christianity. Very regrettably lives have been sacrificed in the process...although they were only Jews. But if we’d done nothing, there would have been a much higher death toll—both physical and spiritual—of both Muslims and Christians. Only the Jews would have gained at our expense. I think you’ll agree that this outcome’s the best we could have expected.”
Razak had to concede that there was undeniable, yet twisted, logic to Farouq’s thinking. It had been extremely devious damage control. “And how do you feel having learned of these contradictions to our teachings?”
Farouq stared at the ceiling. “None of this should mean that we question our faith, Razak. It may mean we need to dig deeper for meaning. Even if those stolen bones truly were Jesus’s remains, I will not waver in my faith. Not over some old bones.”
Razak recalled Barton saying something about pre-biblical texts viewing resurrection as a spiritual transformation—not a physical one. Though the word “resurrection” had survived for centuries, perhaps its meaning had somehow evolved into a more literal definition.
“And Solomon’s Temple?”
The Keeper pursed his lips. “Ancient history. Just like the city of Jebus that King David conquered and renamed Jerusalem one thousand years before Jesus’s time. The Jews shed a lot of innocent blood to lay claim to this so-called ‘Promised Land.’ Yet when the tables were turned, they felt violated. No one truly owns this place except Allah. For now, the Jews have regained control of Israel. But our very presence here, on this site, reminds them that the tide will once again reverse. Ultimately, it is up to Allah to decide who will be victorious.” Farouq circled round the desk and placed a hand on Razak’s shoulder. “Let us go to the mosque and pray.”
68
******
Rome
Aldrich moved closer to Charlotte. “Charlie, what if I told you we could wipe away any disease with one injection—a serum so powerful that it can recode damaged DNA?”
Her mouth opened, but no words came. She stared from the vial, to Evan, and back again. Could it be?
“When I was at your house last week, I saw the medication in your refrigerator—the Melphalan...with your name on it.”
A lump settled into her chest and her eyes welled up with tears. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, but—”
She collapsed in his arms.
“It’s okay,” he said softly.
Her tears came stronger now. Then she sat bolt upright. “My pills! I left my pills back at the Vatican. I’m supposed to take them every day!”
“Don’t worry about that,” he assured her. “You don’t need them. Not anymore.”
She was momentarily puzzled.
“Myeloma is one tough cancer,” he explained. “I know this must be tearing you up. And I know it’s probably why you’ve been distant lately. I pushed too hard last week. You’ve got so many other things on your mind right now. It was selfish of me.”
Sobbing, she nodded. “I...I haven’t told anyone.”
“I think that from now on, we need to make sure that you start opening up a little more before you emotionally implode,” he said with a smile. “I can take the tough stuff, Charlie. You need to be able to trust me.”
Nodding, she reached over for the tissue box on the nightstand. “I’ve got to tell my dad, too.” She dabbed the tears away. “But I’m just afraid. He’s already had to deal with losing mom . . .”
“You’re not going to have to tell him.”
Evan’s comments were starting to bother her. “What are you talking about?”
He cradled the precious vial. “If I’m right about this, there will be nothing to talk about. There’ll be no reason to keep popping Melphalan. I’d like you to be the first in my clinical trial.”
