Rabbi Gabrielle Ignites a Tempest (37 page)

To remind Gabby of her proximity, Irena
planted a firm hand on her shoulder.

To escape from her escorts required more than
inspiration. She had no idea what to do next until a space opened
near the altar at the base of the cross and she stepped into it,
forcing Irena and Alexander to rudely elbow adjacent room for
themselves. Once as close to the site of the crucifixion as it was
possible to get, Gabby closed her eyes, started to issue a Hebrew
petition, but stopped in mid-phrase, acknowledging that she might
soon lose her life on the very spot where the Savior of
Christianity lost his. To capitulate and provide Father Benoit with
the Jesus fragment remained an option, but she felt that unfair to
Tim's memory. Instead, she let instinct lead and jumped forward
onto a brass railing that separated spectators and worshippers from
the overhanging cross moored in the sandstone. Alexander's grip
eased an instant before he completely released her. Hanging upon
the rail, she howled in the loudest voice she could muster,
"
Lamah, lamah, azavtani
, Why, why, my God,
have you abandoned me?" the Aramaic words Jesus cried out from this
very spot. "
Lamah, lamah azavtani
?" she
screamed over an over again, increasing her volume with each
repetition.

A pair of Orthodox priests monitoring
visitors responded by bulling forward toward the cross to silence
this hysterical woman. The instant a priest moved between her and
Alexander, she shifted back upon her feet to face Irena, who
already held in full view the EpiPen, searching for a place to
strike. Gabby sensed she would have only a single opportunity to
misdirect Irena's thrust. To move too soon would guarantee the
needle would puncture her clothing in a vulnerable spot. But too
late was equally lethal. A pause followed by another, then at the
last instant, Gabby pivoted sharply, providing the full length of
her back as a target for Irena. She could hear a swish as the
EpiPen slashed through the air, then a solid thump as the needle
pierced her jacket and blouse, then continued into the vinyl siding
of the folder with the Jesus fragment tucked inside. Whether the
needle penetrated both sides of the folder to reach her flesh she
could not know for certain. The power of Irena's thrust almost
knocked her off balance, yet she could feel no pin prick in the
small of her back.

She knew the Russians would do all in their
power to apprehend her, but without the threat of a deadly virus,
they'd have to catch her first. And here she had an advantage, for
she could use the crowds of spectators and worshippers as screens.
Her unexpected flight through the mingling bodies caught her
captors by surprise. Before they managed to seize her for a second
time, she had ducked behind individuals who, curious about the
screaming they had just heard, remained paralyzed in place. Several
of the chapel's columns also served as cover.

Irena and Alexander were now in full pursuit,
only momentarily catching the flash of Gabby's navy-blue jacket in
movement. Knowing they would attempt to block her exit from the
church, she joined a group of tourists forging a path back toward
the Crucifixion Chapel. To move in the direction of the portal
leading from the Sepulcher Church to the Old City outside, it was
necessary to traverse a circular route with the hope of making a
final dash for freedom at a critical moment. Twice she caught sight
of her pursuers, separately plowing through the crowd, their eyes
in motion. Once she saw Irena with a cell phone to her ear.

She expected Father Benoit and his goons to
converge on her when she eventually emerged into the church square,
but she also knew that, as a fugitive himself, Benoit couldn't
afford a commotion and attract the police. She saw him the moment
she burst forth into the open air with a cell phone to his ear. He
turned to notice her almost at the moment Alexander crashed through
tourists trying to navigate the narrow portal to the church. The
impact caught an elderly woman carrying a bouquet of gold and white
spring flowers and sent her to her knees. Alexander ignored her
while jumping forward to catch Gabby's arm and halt her forward
motion.

"No, no," exclaimed Benoit as he shuffled
forward, waving Alexander off with the hand carrying the cell
phone. "Fifteen," he said in a voice that bellowed across the
square. "Fifteen, Rabbi."

A moment later, Irena emerged from the church
to join Alexander as he released Gabby, who now pretended to walk
calmly in Benoit's direction.

"I've got a commitment for fifteen," the
Dominican priest repeated in an exclamation of victory.

Gabby approached within four meters, halted
and threw a stern uncompromising look at Benoit. "It's not for
sale, Father."

"Fifteen is what you asked for."

"Tim would never, never sell it, and neither
will I."

A wounded expression emerged upon Benoit's
face as he struggled to understand this rejection. She then did
what took Alexander and Irena by surprise. With a bold thrust of an
outstretched hand, she spun around like a ballerina and plunged
into a cluster of new visitors as they moved in the direction of
the church. She knew that the Russians wouldn't let her escape
without pursuing, yet now she had numbers on her side. The crowded
commercial alleys of the Abyssinian Christian and Jewish quarters
of the Old City provided innumerable places to take cover. She
found herself employing the same strategy used in the church,
shielding her movement behind groups of individuals, often changing
directions to add confusion. In a Palestinian coffee shop, she
discovered a corner table out of sight from the narrow street.
After catching her breath to talk, she dialed the Antiquities
Authority on her cell phone and waited while still panting.

Itamar was engaged in a staff meeting and had
given instructions not to be interrupted.

She cupped her fingers over the receiver in
order not to be overheard. "Interrupt him," she pleaded with his
assistant. "I promise you this can't wait."

"Nothing is that urgent, especially around
here," the assistant responded.

"Don't make me say nasty things. If your boss
is unhappy with what I tell him, I'll buy you dinner at the best
restaurant in Jerusalem."

Four long minutes later, Itamar finally
answered, annoyed by Gabby's interruption.

"I've just been in the Church of the Holy
Sepulture. Father Benoit and two Russian thugs, one a man and the
other a woman, tried to stop me."

"Why would he come back?" Itamar asked in
disbelief."

"I'll explain everything when I see you."

"I'll alert the police."

"Do it! Tell them Benoit and his goons were
last seen at the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. Benoit is dressed
like an Orthodox priest with a long black beard. His goons are in
brown leather jackets. I doubt they'll stick around. Pick me up at
the Zion Gate, ASAP."

"I can't leave now. The Minister's calling
for my head. I'm with my staff. Take a taxi if you're in a
hurry."

"Don't worry about your job. With what I
have, you can become Prime Minister."

"This isn't funny. I'm about to become French
toast around here."

"I've got it! I've got it!"

"The measles?"

"Nothing so prosaic. I've got Tim's
discovery of a lifetime
."

"What is it?"

"Not on the phone. The Russians are chasing
me, but I think I've thrown them off. I'm going to make a run for
the Zion Gate in exactly twenty minutes, which should give you
enough time to get there. I'll stay among the crowd in the Old City
until you arrive."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Trust me, Iti. I've told you some dumb fibs
in the past, but not now. I need you."

He paused, then said reluctantly, "Okay, I'm
toast anyway. Twenty minutes outside the Zion Gate. I'll let
Zabronski's people know about Benoit."

"And wait, Iti," she said in a lowered voice
while eying what looked to be sinister men in European black
leather jackets loitering outside the cafe. "You told me you're
licensed to carry a gun. That's right, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Have you got one in your office?"

"Of course."

"Bring it," she said and suddenly flipped the
lid of her cell phone closed, terminating further conversation.
Eleven minutes later, she heard sirens originating in the direction
of the gates leading into the Old City. On one of the commercial
streets, police on extremely large and powerful horses were
pressing their mounts in the direction of the Sepulcher Church.

Itamar showed up in his sports car nine minutes
late. Gabby, more nervous than before, almost jumped into the
passenger seat and told him to drive immediately back to the
Authority headquarters, promising to tell him everything only when
they were safely there.

Arguing that there was no purpose to maintain
secrecy once inside his car, he nevertheless lost the debate
because Gabby refused to respond.

"Just drive," she repeated. "You won't be
sorry."

Twenty-five minutes later, in Itamar's office, he
was thoroughly annoyed when she unbuttoned her blouse, then her
bra. But before he could tell her this was no time for making love,
she turned to him for help pulling off the tape holding the vinyl
folder to her back, at the same time warning about touching
anything that looked like a hypodermic hole in the vinyl. Handling
the folder once freed from her body required extra attention and a
call to a physician.

While she was replacing her clothing, Itamar
read the three words of the fragment repeatedly, then turned over
the vacuum-sealed envelope to examine both sides of the parchment,
eventually lifting it for stronger light below the fluorescent
ceiling fixtures. During his silence, she listened to him breathe
through his mouth, sucking in air and immediately exhaling it. He
eventually emerged from his thoughts to fire off questions about
how this fragment had come into her possession. Gabby told him how
Tim must have hidden it when he returned to the apartment for his
Lipitor and toilet articles.

"You'll lock it up, won't you?" she
asked.

"You bet."

"What's the next step?"

"Before we get egg on our faces, I want the
Hebrew University to do a carbon test. We must be certain it's as
old as we think it is."

"Has it occurred to you that Tim left us with
electronic scans of the other fragments, but this is his only
original?"

"According to Zvi Zabronski, there was an
argument between Tim and Father Benoit at St. George. Benoit broke
the code of silence there and was shouting when Tim escaped.
Perhaps with this in his pocket."

"This is what his thugs were looking for in
the apartment. If they had searched my books rather than just
throwing them on the floor, they would have found it." Constructing
the time-line of events, she realized that the burglars had failed
to find this Yeshu fragment the first time because it wasn't there.
Tim had not yet come to retrieve his Lipitor. Not so on the second
occasion, when they had carelessly taken her Kittel bible for
granted and tossed it on a heap of other books.

That evening, Itamar found Gabby on the sofa,
writing in a spiral notebook. He sat next to her, snuggling closer
with a series of bouncy adjustments. She stuffed her ballpoint into
the notebook and closed the cover, placing her arm over his
shoulder and resting her head against his chest, listening to his
heartbeat. The scent of lavender shampoo was in her hair as he
placed his lips near her ear. "Tell me, Gabrielle." he whispered,
"How much did Benoit offer you for the fragment?"

She lifted her head and brushed his cheek
with soft kisses before saying, "Far less than you're worth."

"How much?"

She planted another kiss upon him at the same
time as she said, "Twelve million was the opening bid. Then Benoit
upped it to fifteen. That's a lot of money for someone who hasn't
given much thought to being rich, though I admit that wealth has a
certain appeal. But there was no way I could keep the fragment and
have you at the same time. A simple choice. It was one of the
other, but not both. If I had decided to take the cash, I wouldn't
be here now. I'd be on a plane to Paraguay or some other awful
place. We can fill our lives either with things or with people. For
me, that's a no-brainer."

Lying in bed beside Itamar sometime around
two-thirty in the morning, Gabby bolted awake. Itamar was a sound
sleeper and did not awaken with her. She eased out of bed and
stepped to the window, gazing up at the clear, star-filled sky.
Pieces of a puzzle had begun falling into place. For years, she had
believed that prophets trained to be God's emissaries. They
schooled themselves in sacred texts, ate a Spartan diet, refrained
from sex, bathed frequently, and inclined their spirits to God.
Qumran fragments now outlined the curriculum of a school for
prophets, a school whose messianic teachings threatened the very
fiber of Roman authority. Cave XII had also yielded a list of
individuals most likely associated with this school. Among these
names was that of a man soon to be acknowledged as God's special
son and bestowed with divine status. She had stumbled upon an
extraordinary proposition—
that Jesus had been a
student at the Ein Arugot yeshiva, learning how to become the
prophet he later became
.

In the morning, Itamar listened to her with
wonder. He was normally skeptical of far-reaching theories, but
Gabby's was documented. Even to a naysayer, this hypothesis
commanded attention. He cautioned her, "Not a word of this until
I've had a chance to talk with the prime minister's office. The
time for glory will come. I promise you that, Gabrielle. But first
the Authority needs to make some important decisions."