The Gates of Zion (55 page)

“Okay. Why don’t you say it?” He grinned, looking ridiculous in his torn, collarless shirt with his tie around his neck. “I saw your face when you thought I was dead. Why don’t you stop playing games so we can get down to the business of being in love? That takes a little work and effort, you know.”

“In the first place, I don’t care what you thought you saw on my face.

Yes, I thought you were dead. I was sorry you were dead. Anybody would be sorry. In the second place―”

“You better tell the truth, Els―God’s gettin’ this on record, y’know.

Go ahead and tell me you’re not in love with me.” He raised his eyebrows expectantly. “Go ahead.”

Ellie reached back to scratch Shaul behind the ears. “I can’t,” she said sulkily. “Because I’m not sure.”

“God’s gonna get you,” David teased.

“You are the most egotistical, arrogant―”

“Truthful, honest, loyal. A real Boy Scout. I even do a good turn every day.” He pushed the Stinson into a steep dive and buzzed over the top of Allenby Barracks and the train station, leveling a mere fifty feet above the road to Bethlehem. “Keep your eyes peeled,” he instructed. “Every face on the highway is gonna be looking up here cussin’ this plane before I’m through. If they’re down there, you’ll see ’em.”

Ellie turned her attention to the travelers below, laughing at the Arab camel drovers who shook their fists in fury as their camels bucked and bellowed beneath the shadow of the plane.

“Trouble up ahead!” David shouted, pulling the plane up as they roared over the heads of a large group of Jihad Moquades.

Ellie instinctively ducked back as rifles raised to shoulders and barrels flashed in their direction. “Who are they?”

“Arab irregulars,” said David grimly. “Your uncle might be in more trouble than I thought.” He banked the plane and made one more pass over their heads, this time high and hopefully out of range.

“They all have guns. Every one of them,” said Ellie. “Do you think they could have found Uncle Howard and Moshe?”

He looked at her and shook his head. “We’ll know soon enough.

These fellas never stop to bury their victims.”

Horror and fear struck deep within Ellie. “You think they’re
dead
?”

“Tie up the dog back there,” David instructed her. “We might have to do some fancy flying, and the last thing we need is the mutt flopping around.”

Ellie shook herself back to reality and climbed back to secure Shaul’s frayed rope to a handle on the side of the plane. “What’s all this stuff?” she yelled over the roar of the engine as she spotted the crates of seltzer water and Scotch.

“Bombs,” said David. “Get up here. I think I’ve spotted something.”

He brought the plane low over the barricade on the highway in front of the monastery.

“Over there.” Ellie pointed. “That’s my uncle’s dig. I spent the first three months in Palestine rooting around in an old tomb down there.”

“Well, something’s up!” David insisted. “Look at those guys!”

Ellie peered out the window as a small group of men scoured the area round the dig.

“Either somebody’s lost their car keys, or I’d say Moshe and Howard are hiding out someplace.” He banked the plane back toward Jerusalem as a volley of rifle fire exploded in the sky around them. “So much for the car-key theory.”

“What can we do? How can we land the plane with those men there at the dig?”

“I don’t know.” He frowned. “But we’re going down again. See if you can count them.”

Ellie pressed her face against the windowpane and gazed at the barren rocky countryside below. She counted softly to herself as rifles raised and took aim on the Stinson. “Ten. Maybe more. I can only see ten. They haven’t found the tomb yet.”

“The tomb?”

“The tomb. I just told you about the tomb. It’s the only place they could hide, David. There’s no other place they could be.”

“They aren’t dead yet, anyway.”

“How do you know?” she asked hopefully.

David looked at her in exasperation and tapped his temple. “That’s what I like about you, Els; you got a lot upstairs.” He pushed the plane into a gentle dive once again. “Look at those guys. If they had killed your uncle, do you think they’d be wandering around looking for their bodies? They’d know right where to find them.”

Another volley of gunfire greeted the plane as they passed overhead.

David pulled up and circled over Bethlehem, then returned to the dig site. Ellie clambered over the back of her seat to the crates.

“We’ve got to do something,” she said. “Something.” She pried the lid from the top of a crate of seltzer bottles.

“What are you up to?” David called back, continuing to circle.

“You said these were bombs.” Her voice was filled with angry frustration as she wrenched a bottle from the crate.

“So?”

She pushed the button on top of the bottle, sending a bubbling stream of seltzer toward David. “Seltzer water!” she cried in disgust.

“Knock it off,” David snapped, wiping the back of his head. “Don’t you have any imagination, girl? This is a war of imagination. That’s a bomb you’re holding. Let’s have a little respect.”

“Stop babbling, David!” she shouted. “Moshe and Uncle Howard are going to be killed, and all we have is a couple crates of fizzy water and you’re―”

“Shut up and listen, will you!” he demanded. “Remember I told you about my buddy who used to tend bar at the Top of the Mark in San Francisco during the war?”

“Yes. So what?”

“He used to save the nearly empty seltzer bottles. Remember I told you?”

“Yes.”

“Remember what we used to do with them?” He turned and grinned broadly.

Immediately Ellie’s mind flooded with understanding. “You used to shake them up and toss them off the roof of the hotel during blackouts!”

“And they screamed like bombs all the way to the ground and blew up when they hit. Scared the bejeebers out of the whole city. Thought the Japs were attacking for sure!”

“Oh, David! You think it’ll work?” She shook the bottle and began to pry open the cockpit window.

“What would you do if you heard a bomb screaming out of the sky?”

“I’d run!” She braced the window open and began to pull the bottles from their crates.

“Exactly. It just about got me arrested in Frisco. Harold got fired.

Let’s see what kind of damage we can do to those blanket heads down there.”

David whooped and banked the plane toward where four Arabs stood atop a high stone wall. They were only a few feet from the entrance to the tomb, Ellie knew.

“Shake those babies up real good now,” David instructed. “Ready?”

“Anytime.” Ellie sat up on her knees at the window, two bottles in hand. “Say when.”

“We’re gonna give it plenty of altitude so they can whistle a long time before they hit.” David brought the nose of the plane to an altitude of five hundred feet as they passed over the Arabs.

“Okay, Els. When I count three. One …”

Ellie continued to shake the bottles until their contents began to push at the nozzle. “Right.”

“Two …”

The Arabs raised their rifles to their shoulders and the popping of gunfire filled the air.

“Three! Let ’em go!”

Ellie threw one bottle from the plane and paused a second before throwing the next. The scream of escaping seltzer water drowned the popping bullets and the shouts of the men, who looked up in terror at the sound of falling bombs. They threw down their weapons and jumped from the wall, scrambling for cover as the bottles hit and exploded into fragments of glass and tall geysers.

David and Ellie whooped with delight.

“It’s working!” cried Ellie, throwing her arms around David’s neck.

“You’re wonderful!”

“I keep trying to tell you that!” He laughed. “Hold on. We’re going to make another pass.” David pushed the plane into a steep dive, nearly brushing the heads of the now defenseless Jihad Moquades. They cowered low behind a cluster of rocks, and Ellie could see their fearful faces as they looked at the belly of the plane.

“We’ve got to get them out of there, David. We can’t land if they’re still hanging around.”

“Time for another run, bombardier.” He pulled the plane into a steep climb and circled to where five other Arabs lay spread-eagle against the earth. “Shake ’em up good now.”

Ellie had already taken four bottles from the crate and was hard at work agitating the contents. “Ready when you are.”

“Just don’t shake ’em so much they blow up in here, okay?” He glanced over his shoulder.

Below them, the Arabs were scrambling for their rifles, searching for a safe place to hide from the menacing little plane. Ellie gasped in horror as one Arab crouched dangerously close to where the entrance of the tomb was hidden. “David!” she shouted. “They’ll find it! Hurry.”

“One … two … three. Let ’em fly!”

Frantically Ellie dropped first one, then the second and third bottles from the window. The whine filled the air.

“Now the other one!” David shouted.

The terror-stricken warriors ran from the site of the tomb entrance, which seemed to be the target area for the howling death that rained down on them. Like ants on a ruined anthill, they ran from the sound, they ran from the explosions, they ran from one another, each taking a separate route back to Talpiyoth.

David dipped the wings of the plane as he buzzed their heads dangerously close once again. Ellie laughed as the Arabs screeched and raced from the oncoming plane. David climbed and circled one last time, convinced that, at least for now, they had seen the last of the Arab band.

***

Howard raised his eyes to the roof of the tomb as the roar of an aircraft engine and the sound of explosions penetrated the earth above them.

“What is it?” Moshe asked weakly.

“The cavalry, I hope,” said Howard, turning his eyes with concern to the blood-soaked bandage on Moshe’s arm.

Again and again the plane passed directly above them and was answered by the popping of Arab rifles. Howard closed his eyes and prayed for whoever was in the plane―and for himself and Moshe as well.

Finally the sound of gunfire ceased, but the roar of the plane engine crisscrossed the sky above them. “They are searching for us,” said Moshe flatly.

“I’ve got to go up.” Howard scrambled toward the opening. “Got to let them know we’re here.”

“Howard!” Moshe called after him.

Howard paused at the entrance to the shaft and turned, looking into the eyes of his friend. “We’re either going to make it together or not at all.” He grinned at Moshe, then climbed up the shaft toward the sunlight.

Cautiously he stuck his head out. The shadow of the Stinson touched him, and he pulled himself out of the hole and pulled off his filthy Bedouin robe. He stood beneath the rock wall and waved his robe as the bright silver bird banked and turned toward him.

The plane passed directly over his head and dipped its wings in salute before it turned and lined up with the ribbon of highway that would serve as a landing strip.

Howard threw the plane a kiss, then scrambled back down the shaft to where Moshe waited. “They’re landing!” he shouted. “Moshe!

Come on, boy!” He slid into the tomb and crawled to Moshe’s side.

Moshe smiled wearily at him. “Your cavalry, eh?”

“We’ve got to go. Hassan’s men can’t be far.” Howard slipped his arm around Moshe and helped him toward the opening of the shaft, boosting him up from behind. Carefully he lifted him toward the sunlight. Moshe groaned once when his arm bumped the rocks at the entrance to the tomb; then he lay beneath the shrub as Howard clambered out over him.

The plane taxied to a stop a mere fifty yards from where Howard helped Moshe to his feet. David smiled and waved broadly as he hopped from the plane and Ellie followed. They ran across the rough terrain toward the weary fugitives.

“It’s about time!” shouted Howard, supporting Moshe as they stumbled toward the plane.

“Uncle Howard!” cried Ellie, triumphantly wrapping her arms around him.

“Moshe is wounded. He has lost a lot of blood. Left a trail for the Arabs to follow. I thought we were goners,” he said, gushing happily as David took Moshe from him and helped him into the plane.

“But you’re all right! Thank God you’re alive. Oh, thank God!” Ellie said, as Howard picked up an Arab gun and put it into the cockpit, then helped David get Moshe into the plane.

Suddenly Howard blanched and whirled to face the rock wall. “Dear God!” he exclaimed. “I’ve forgotten the scrolls!”

He ran back across the field as David called angrily after him, “Where’s he going? He’ll get us all killed!”

“Uncle Howard!” Ellie screamed and ran after him.

Howard leaped into the shaft and slid into the tomb. He shoved away the stone that leaned against the loculus and crawled into the narrow chamber. He grasped the leather pouch and the fabric-wrapped scroll of Isaiah. With infinite care he lifted them from the depression and wriggled back out to the shaft and the open air. He gently laid the scrolls on the lip of the opening, then pulled himself out of the hole and onto the dirt. “I got them!” he called joyfully.

Then a foot stepped firmly on his arm. Howard gasped. The barrel of a machine gun rammed beneath his chin and lifted his face into the sunlight.

The smiling face of Hassan gazed down on him. “Thank you so much, my friend, for returning what is mine.”

Ellie and David stood a few yards away. Howard turned his eyes on them and then on the scrolls. “I’m sorry,” he said softly.

Ellie and David did not reply. Ellie’s face was chalky white and David glared at Hassan angrily.

“You will get up,” instructed Hassan. “Slowly, please. And pick up the scrolls, if you will.”

Howard obeyed, not willing to defy the gun at his head. His eyes met Ellie’s and seemed to speak to her. She nodded slightly.

“Now you will all please walk to the plane.” Hassan’s voice had the patronizing tone of a man who had finally and decisively won. “My companions were cowards. Cowards. But I remained behind,” he cooed. “As my father said many times, where the vulture circles, there is the body, yes?” He seemed amused by his monologue.