The 13th Enumeration (42 page)

Turning to Zane, she took his arm. “Very well, then, Mr. Harrison; shall we go?”

Zane took a step toward Jacob and extended his hand. “Mr. Neumann, it’s wonderful to hear you have found the Messiah.”

Jacob took Zane’s hand and warmly shook it. “Thank you, Zane, you had no small part in it. To both of you, I own a measure of thanks.” With a more serious look on his face he said, “Take care of her, Zane. She is my little girl.” With that he released Zane’s hand and showed them to the door.

Zane paused at the door. “Mr. Neumann, I will have your daughter home by ten.”

“Very well, I will see you then,” he replied. He watched the two of them walk toward the car. As Zane held the door open for her, she looked up, catching her father’s eye. He nodded his head slightly in acknowledgment, a touch of melancholy tingeing the smile on his face.
             

Chapter 86

As they drove away, Rachael sighed and laid her head back against the rest. Zane glanced over and saw a beautiful smile as the light of a street lamp briefly illuminated her face. Turning his attention back to the road he said, “We witnessed a little miracle tonight, didn’t we? Your hopes and prayers were answered. You uncovered a piece of history that was the catalyst which opened your father’s eyes.”

Rachael looked over at Zane a look of love on her face. “We uncovered a piece of history,” she said softly. “Both of us. But it was you who put the pieces together. Without your courage to challenge conventional wisdom and then your unfailing search for the answer, my father would not have seen the truth. Your archeology dig in the Scripture was successful, Zane. You found one of the greatest treasures of all time—a treasure with the power to change a human heart.”

             
They drove on in silence for several minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally Rachael, as if brought back to the present, asked, “So where are you taking me, Mr. Harrison?”

“You will just have to wait and see,” he said with an air of mystery. “We are almost there.” A minute later Zane pulled up to the front of the Canela Restaurant.

As they stopped, Rachael looked over and raised an eyebrow. “Trying to impress your date, Mr. Harrison? This is one of the better restaurants in Jerusalem.”

Zane would have to remember to thank his waiter back in Tel Aviv for the recommendation. Elated, he replied, “I heard it was a classy place, and they even have a grand piano that plays live music on Monday nights. I hope you like it.”

Rachael smiled to herself. She had played music for the patrons of the Canela many times at that grand piano. For almost a year during college she’d had the gig. She had only eaten there once with her father. It was a little out of her price range. The food was excellent, though, and the service equally so.
             
When they stopped, Zane got out and gave the valet his keys. He opened Rachael’s door, and they both entered the restaurant. The
matradee
asked for their name and then led them to a cozy table for two overlooking the street. After they were seated and both had a menu, Zane asked, “Are you hungry?”

Looking over the top of the menu she was perusing, Rachael answered, “Starved, how about you?”

“Very. Everything looks really good.”

After a few minutes a waiter approached and asked if they were ready to order. Rachael looked up at Zane. He nodded and indicated she should go ahead. She ordered the asparagus and spinach ravioli in olive oil, garlic, leek, sun-dried tomatoes, and fresh herbs. Zane ordered the Canela hamburger in barbecue sauce, with grilled onion, tomato, and baked potato. They both requested water to drink.

As the waiter walked away, Rachael laughed.

Zane smiled and asked, “What’s so funny?”

Rachael replied, “You take me to one of the better restaurants in Jerusalem and you order a hamburger when you could have beef tongue, foie gras, or Tournedos Rossini?”

He replied with a shrug, “I like what I like. Good old hamburger with barbecue sauce sounds just about right.”

Rachael’s rich laugh was pleasant to Zane’s ears. He continued in good humor, “I didn’t see you order any of that highfalutin cuisine.”

She made a funny face. “I’m not crazy about it either.”
             
They spent the next hour enjoying their food and each other’s company. After their meal Zane asked, “Do you feel like some dessert?”

“No, thank you. The dessert menu looks tempting, but I am full. You?”

“Me neither, the hamburger was terrific and I don’t think I could fit anything else.”

When the waiter approached, Zane requested the bill. As they were waiting he asked, “Are you ready to head home, or is there any
place else you would like to go?”

Rachael replied, “Have you ever been to the Mount of Olives at sunset? If we hurry, we might just make it before the sun goes down.”

After driving up the narrow road toward the
Mount of Olives
, they found a place in the parking area at the top. They both got out and walked over to the observation area
overlooking the Temple mount. The sun was just setting behind the Temple Mount, bathing it in the soft evening light. With a final burst of color it sank beyond the horizon, leaving the sky colored with pastel shades of red and orange.
             
They both stood silently watching as the colors faded into the evening twilight. After some time Zane said quietly, “That was beautiful, Rachael. What a great idea. Can you imagine being here on the mountain when Yeshua ascended into heaven? Or better yet, standing here when he returns to Jerusalem? Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”

Rachael reached over for Zane’s hand. Finding it, she stood there in silence, leaning against him, holding his strong hand in hers and feeling its warmth and strength. “Even so, come Yeshua . . . Maranatha!” she whispered softly.

“Our hope,” he replied in turn.

* * *

Anton Ramirez sat behind the wheel of his rental car barely able to contain his growing lust to kill. He’d been stymied in Dubai, but not this time—his target was an old man and some kids. It was 8:34 p.m., and he was in a residential neighborhood a few blocks from Jacob Neumann’s house. The streets were practically empty. The only person he saw was a little old lady walking her small dog up ahead. In fiendish glee, he gave the steering wheel a sharp twist just as he drew alongside the woman. Before the woman could react he felt the satisfying thump, thump of the little dog under his wheels as he sent the little old lady flying into the neighbor’s yard with the corner of his bumper. He didn’t even touch the brake. Neither of the two dark forms in his rearview mirror moved at all as he drove on down the street.
             
Taking the next left, Anton found a place to park his car next to a vacant lot between two small houses. Removing a pistol from his bag, he checked to make sure it was loaded and functioning normally. He had stopped to pick it up from one of his contacts just outside of Tel Aviv. Placing the pistol in his waistband, he pulled his shirt down over it and got out of the car. As if on his nightly walk around the neighborhood, Anton turned on the Neumanns’ street and walked half a block to their house. Slowly he walked up to the front door, a smile of anticipation on his face. Reaching up, he knocked on the old wooden door. After a lengthy pause, he heard someone unlocking the door.

* * *

Rachael’s phone rang. She let go of Zane’s hand and reached into her pocket, removing her cell. It was 8:41, and she recognized the number as her father’s. Surprised, she answered, “Hello Abba, is everything all right?”

Jacob Neumann’s calm voice came through the line, “Sorry to bother you, my dear, but I must have hit your number by accident. I have been trying to program this new phone you gave me, and, well, you know me and these new electronic devices.”

“Abba, I am just glad everything is all right. We will be home in a little while.”

“No hurry on my account, my dear. I’ll see you when . . . Rachael, someone is at the door. I’ve got to go. Bye.”

Rachael laughed as she heard him muttering and fumbling, trying to turn off his phone. “Hey, Abba,” she called into the phone with a laugh in her voice, “you didn’t turn it off. I can still hear you.”

Jacob’s frustrated voice came back over the phone. “Somehow I locked the screen again, and I can’t tur
n the phone off. Would you mind
holding on for a minute and walking me through it again after I answer the door?”

“Sure, Abba,” she said, chuckling. She heard him slide the phone into his shirt pocket and begin to unlock the front door. She held her hand over the phone and looked up at Zane. “My dad locked himself out of his phone again. I’ve had to walk him through this once before. He hates electronic devices. It should only take a minute or two. He is answering the door right now.”

Zane laughed. “My mother is the same way. She’ll never get a smartphone.”

Rachael turned back to her phone. She could hear her father’s voice. “Yes, may I help you?”

* * *

A pistol in his hand, Anton Ramirez, eyes burning with the fury of hell, pushed Jacob Neumann back into his living room.

“What do you want?” Jacob demanded.

Anton replied, “I want you to tell me everything you know about the 13
th
Enumeration. Let me save us both a lot of trouble. I will kill you if you do not cooperate. In fact, I will enjoy killing you. But first you will tell me everything you know, include everyone you have talked to about this.”

With just a touch of curiosity edging his anger, Jacob replied, “You break into my home and demand I tell you about the 13
th
Enumeration.” Jacob laughed. “Pretty ext
reme lengths for you to go to
learn about the Messiah, I’d say.”

A look of scorn on his face, Anton replied, “I am not here to learn about the Son of God, Mr. Neumann. I already know more than you do. I am here to make sure you don’t share this knowledge with anyone else. We have been guarding the secret for centuries, and it is not time yet for the world to choose. The final Jubilee has not expired; we still have more time left. The time of the Gentiles is not complete.”

“You are talking nonsense,” Jacob replied. “Get out of my home.”

Anton gave a sadistic smile. “Mr. Neumann, let me be clear. I am here to kill you, your daughter, and everyone else who knows about the 13
th
Enumeration. You only know part of a very old secret, and we cannot yet afford for you to learn the rest. Now tell me where your daughter is!”

Jacob stood there in silent defiance. Anton raised his pistol and pointed it at Jacob’s head. He caulked the hammer and said, “I will give you one more chance.”

Jacob, a look of realization on his face, said, “Rachael, I love you, my dear, and I am proud of you. I am going to see your mother now. Mr. Harrrison, take care of my daughter.”

With that, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. With a look of cruel, incredulous surprise, Anton Ramerez watched as Jacob Neumann’s fingers released the phone.

* * *

Zane watched as Rachael’s smile faded and a look of concern took its place. As the seconds went by, he could see her concern grow to fear and then a look of helpless horror as she listened to the events in the living room of their home. Zane could see her silently mouth the words, “No, No, NO!” Then, as tears welled in her eyes, Zane heard what sounded like a muffled gunshot, and Rachael Neumann screamed and screamed.
             
She turned toward Zane, her eyes filled with hopelessness and panic. “Abba,” she cried into the phone. “Abba,” her voice now a broken sob.

“What is it, Rachael? What’s the matter?” Zane asked, his expression reflecting her fear.

Rachael did not answer him right away as she was still trying to raise her father on the now-silent phone. She redialed his number, but he still didn’t answer. Looking at Zane, she said, “My
A
bba has been shot.”

“What do you mean he has been shot?” Zane asked incredulously.

Rachael tried to explain through her sobbing. “Someone came to the door and demanded to know everything about the 13
th
Enumeration. Whoever it was wanted to know who my father told and where I was. He said he was going to kill us all, and then . . .” She stopped, unable to continue.

Zane gently took her hand, trying to comfort her. Brokenly she continued, “And then Abba said he loved me, and he was going to see my mother. His final words were, ‘Mr. Harrison, take care of my daughter.’ Then I heard a gunshot and silence.” Hopelessly she looked into Zane’s eyes. “My
A
bba is dead.”

Gently Zane took the cell phone from Rachael’s other hand and dialed David. He quickly explained what had happened and hung up. Turning to Rachael he said, “David is calling the Mossad, and he will let us know what he finds out. He recommended we go somewhere safe for the time being until they find out what is going on. David thinks our lives could be in danger as well.”
             
Zane’s words seemed to bring Rachael out of her shock. “I am not going to sit here and wait for a phone call. Take me home, Zane. I want to see my father.”

“Rachael, it’s not safe for you to go there right now. You said yourself the killer wanted to know where you were. They are looking for you too.”

Rachael, now with the fire of battle rising in her eyes, replied, “Zane, either you take me home right now or I will find someone who will.”

Zane looked at her for several seconds before he replied. He knew enough about Rachael Neumann to know she was not bluffing, and rational or not, she would march straight into the fires of hell in her current emotional state. Finally he said, “Okay, Rachael, I will take you home. But I will not stop at your house unless law enforcement is there when we arrive. Is that clear?” Without a word she turned and headed for the car.

             
It took them fifteen minutes to make it back to Rachael’s neighborhood. Not a word was spoken the entire drive. Zane looked at every car and person he passed as a potential enemy. As they drew near, they could see the lights of several police cars and an ambulance. One of the police officers was stationed several hundred feet down the street, blocking traffic from approaching. In the distance, more sirens could be heard approaching.