75
******
The sides of the wide corridor rose high above, curving to form a continuous arched canopy that tapered far off along a perfect line. The ground had been meticulously cleared and the wide, flat stones that paved the walkway were worn so perfectly smooth that they squeaked underfoot. There was a very distinct smell down here—a pleasant redolence of minerals and earth. Squinting, Charlotte tried in vain to make out what lay at the corridor’s other end, but the armed men in blue had taken the lead and obstructed the view. The robed pallbearers were traipsing behind her with the relic shoulder-mounted between them; the other robed men formed the train’s caboose.
“A beautiful restoration, wouldn’t you say?” Cohen proudly stated.
He explained that this had been the main thoroughfare, used in the first century for visitors coming in from the east gate en route to the marketplace that ran along the Temple Mount’s western wall; its roomy dimensions easily accommodated pedestrians, horses, and wagons. Its design was King Herod’s, as evidenced by the beveled frames carved into the bedrock to resemble the blocks of the mount’s outer walls. To prevent sneak attacks, the underground roadway had been sealed by the Romans immediately after they’d destroyed the second temple in 70 c.e.
While clearing the tunnel, he went on, the workmen had found Roman coins and refuse commingled with the fill—all circa 70 c.e. And most remarkable were the remnants they’d recovered from the original temple buildings— fractured stones inscribed with Greek and Hebrew citations of the Torah, beautiful stone columns that would have supported the porticoes, ornate foundation blocks etched with cherubim and rosettes. He told Charlotte that he’d taken the most beautiful stone and put it on display in his own museum in the Jewish Quarter.
“So you see, Charlotte, the second temple certainly did exist, and we’ve found all the proof to substantiate it. The Muslims have feared this for centuries. Precisely the reason they so vehemently object to any excavation beneath the Temple Mount.” Which was a partial blessing, he thought, since Jesus’s ossuary—strategically buried here by the Essenes just beyond the temple’s sacred precincts—had remained protected for so long. “However, though all of this is very impressive”—he swept his hand in circles over his head to imply the entirety of the Temple Mount—“it is nothing compared to God’s plan. King Herod built the second temple for vanity and pride. In God’s eye, it was a mockery. Its destruction should not be lamented.”
Charlotte remained silent, still grappling with all that was happening. Cohen was a lunatic. But there was something about him that commanded respect.
They continued along until they neared the terminus, where a formidable wall sealed the tunnel’s east gateway.
“See here what the caliphs had done?” he said, pointing to the stonework. “They sealed this gate too. And on the other side they heaped up the earth and pushed it against the mount’s eastern wall. Then they buried their dead all along it. Out there”—he motioned to what lay beyond the wall—“you can see the tombs, thousands of them.”
He told her that for the same reason, the Muslims had also bricked up a second double-arched gateway still visible on the eastern wall just above the graves. The Jews called that gate the Golden Gate.
“Do you know why they block the east gates, Charlotte?”
“Enlighten me,” she sarcastically replied.
“The Jewish Messiah who is to redeem Zion is prophesied to return through the East Gate, just as Jesus did. So they eliminated the gates. And when they learned that the Chosen One would become impure by coming into contact with the dead, and thus be forbidden by God to enter the temple precincts, they constructed the graveyard.”
The heaped-up corpses made the security system sound an awful lot like voodoo, she thought.
“As you might imagine,” he continued, “the Muslims fear the destruction of their sacred shrines, because the return of the Messiah will usher in the building of the third temple—and the Messianic Age.” Then he gave a wry smile. “But what they miss is that
The far-off patter of automatic gunfire suddenly echoed down the tunnel and caught his attention.
The rabbi scowled when he saw her reaction. “We must move quickly,” he told his entourage.
Directing his attention to a sweeping arch that opened up on the left wall, Cohen glanced up a wide, high staircase. At the top, his men worked to remove a wooden framework that had stabilized the overhead paving stones.
76
******
The plaza on the Temple Mount’s southern end was vacant as Amit slipped past the huge circular ablutions fountain set before al-Aqsa Mosque. Seemed odd.
A harvest moon floated above Jerusalem; the air was balmy, lifelessly still.
He turned onto the wide paved walkway leading between the wispy cypress trees surrounding the Dome of the Rock’s raised platform. But he quickly ducked for cover when he saw a tall Arab coming in his direction.
As the Arab hastened under the multiarched
Strange.
That’s when something more peculiar caught his attention.
Just beyond the olive trees on the platform’s east side, the massive paving stones gritted and scratched, and seemed to shift before his eyes.
“What in God’s name . . . ?” He moved closer.
Then, without warning, four of the pavers fell inward, disappearing into a massive hole.
