“I see.” Farouq’s face went limp as he considered asking for the key back. “You know how things are over there right now.”
“I’ll be careful,” Razak assured him. “I’m taking Barton with me. It will be fine.”
Clearly unconvinced, Farouq nodded. “Just remember that we’re trying to solve a crime here, Razak. An act of terrorism. We’re not making a documentary. Make sure Barton stays on track.”
“Yes, yes.”
After Razak left, Farouq sat in silence for some time, staring emptily out the window at the gold-leafed cupola of the Dome of the Rock— the structure that single-handedly defined Islam’s claim to Palestine.
Even the name of the site was one neither side could agree on. To Jews, it was the Temple Mount. To Muslims—the Haram esh-Sharif.
Everything in Jerusalem had at least two names, even the city itself— Al Quds.
How could such a small country have redefined the Middle East and sparked the counter crusade—jihad ? Centuries of conflict. So many disputes. To Farouq, religion was no longer the cause he championed. It was far more than that now.
He thought back to his days on the front line. He’d been a soldier during the Six Days’ War in 1967, when the Arab nations—Egypt, Syria, and Jordan—had formed a united front to cast the Israelis into the sea, once and for all. But Israel’s lethal air force—purchased from the United States—had been underestimated, preemptively striking the Egyptian airfields before the offensive even began. The conflict had ended with terrible consequences for the Palestinians. Israel had managed to wrest control over the Golan Heights, the West Bank, and the Sinai Peninsula. But even after that disastrous conflict, the Temple Mount had remained under Islamic control. Even the heavily armed Israelis knew that an attack against this site would escalate conflict to entirely new levels.
In 1973 Farouq had once again fought for his people when Egypt and Syria joined forces to reclaim the occupied territories, launching a sneak attack in Sinai and the Golan Heights during the holiest of the Jewish holidays—Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. For two weeks the Arab forces pushed deeper and deeper into the region, almost breaking the Israelis. But the tide soon turned, with the United Nations enforcing a ceasefire.
Farouq’s hand migrated to his chest and massaged the scar beneath his tunic where an Israeli infantryman’s bullet had almost taken his life.
Though a major conflict hadn’t occurred in over three decades, Palestinian intifadas had been prolonged and frequent. Israel had strengthened its hold over the land, monopolizing the weaponry. It was a poorly kept secret that Israel had nuclear weapons, while Palestinians protesting on the streets had resorted to throwing stones.
But the emergence of extremist militant groups—like Hamas and Islamic Jihad—had transformed the conflict to a psychological offensive designed to starve the Israelis of peace and security. Highly visible suicide bombings had become the new voice of Palestinian freedom. Whether one called them terrorists or martyrs, the message was clear—the Israelis were only visitors in this place.
There would never be peace in Israel and wise men like Farouq who had fought on the front line for independence knew why. To give up Palestine was to surrender to Western ideology. Just as Saladin had pushed the Crusaders out of the Holy Land in the twelfth century, the Palestinians would soon rise again to reclaim the region.
And no controversy resulted in more bloodshed than those resulting from Israeli meddling with the Temple Mount. The archaeological digs initiated by Israelis and Palestinians in 1996 had resulted in scores of deaths. In 2000 Ariel Sharon had tried to reassert Israeli control over the site by marching into the esplanade with hundreds of IDF soldiers. Once again the Palestinians interpreted these actions as a religious attack, and much bloodshed had ensued.
Though he no longer wielded a rifle, Farouq remained a soldier on this new battlefront. The Temple Mount— the region’s most valuable asset— was an archaeological treasure, a time capsule of world faith and politics. And no matter how sophisticated Israeli weaponry became, they would never reclaim the site while he lived and breathed. With all Farouq had fought for in the past, he would rather die before that day passed.
Picking up the phone, he placed a call to the news department at Gaza City’s Palestinian TV. Owned and operated by the Palestinian Authority, Palestinian TV underscored the extreme discontent at Israeli occupation. Its message had struck such a chord in right-wing Israeli circles that its director had been killed, shot at close range in the chest and head. The Mossad was suspected.
His call was routed to his inside contact—a young, ambitious Muslim named Alfar. Farouq provided detailed information about the helicopter— ammunition for what would prove to be the network’s most contentious media bombshell ever.
Farouq hung up.
Emanating from the network of loudspeakers across the Haram eshSharif esplanade, he heard the call of the muezzin. It was time for midday prayer.
The Keeper eased himself onto his knees, faced south toward Mecca and began his recitation.
34
******
Vatican City
Standing to get a better look at what Charlotte had found, Bersei could see that nestled in a carved niche at the very bottom of the ossuary was something that resembled a metal test tube.
Above the white fabric of their masks, the two scientists exchanged looks.
“I’ve just about had all I can take right now,” Giovanni motioned to the cylinder. “You do the honors.”
Charlotte reached down as if into a black hole. Her fingers closed around smooth metal. Slowly, and with infinite care, she withdrew it from the ossuary.
Turning her hand over, she rolled the tarnished tubular casing along her latex covered palm—a stark contrast of old and new. Both ends were sealed by round metal caps. There were no distinguishing marks or inscriptions.
“A container of some kind?” She inspected each end in turn. Her eyes were on him, searching for an explanation, but Bersei could not speak. “Giovanni, I think you should open this.”
