The Jerusalem Creed: A Sean Wyatt Thriller (10 page)

Tel Aviv, Israel

A shell-shocked Karem dropped Sean and Tommy at their hotel on the edge of the city. The drive back had been relatively quick. Karem, it seemed, had no desire to spend any more time with the two Americans.

They didn’t blame him. After all, they tended to be bullet magnets on occasion. The sooner Karem could be done with them, the safer he would be.

The drive from Jerusalem back to the thriving coastal metropolis of Tel Aviv took just over an hour. Sean had been to the city several times during his first go-around with Axis. Even in the last decade, he’d been shocked at how quickly it had grown. The surrounding metropolitan area boasted around half a million people. New buildings were being constructed in perpetuity. The city, it seemed, was in a massive state of expansion, in spite of living under constant threat.

Tel Aviv had become one of the world’s trendy places to visit. High fashion could be found everywhere, with women walking in brightly colored dresses to and from expensive clothing shops and boutiques. Restaurants and bars were thriving, especially over near the sea. Tel Aviv’s beaches had become one of the country’s top destinations and seemed to attract the most beautiful people, anxious to bathe in the constant warmth of the Israeli sun.

As Sean and Tommy got out of the car, thanking Karem for his help, the smells of the city simmered together with the salt air of the sea. A cornucopia of food scents wafted over the two Americans, flooding their nostrils with the aroma of fresh pita bread, falafels, schnitzel, sabih, shawarma, and a flaky, round pastry known as malawach. His nose reminded Sean of how hungry he’d got since leaving the hotel earlier. A shawarma stand across the street called his name. He could see the spit of lamb meat turning slowly over the cooking heater. There was no time to eat right now, though. He would have to settle for something on the flight.

The two hurried up to the hotel room and gathered their few belongings. Traveling light had been their choice. It made getting around easier, and quick getaways even more so.

Sean grabbed his laptop case, rucksack, and messenger bag. Tommy grabbed his backpack and laptop bag. They were checking through their things when Tommy’s phone started vibrating. He looked down at the screen and hit the green button.

“Hey, kids. What’s up?”

Tara’s voice came through the earpiece first. “We looked up those engravings you sent. Where did you find those anyway?”

“The high priest’s tomb of early seventh-century Israel. Why do you ask?”

Tommy’s blunt and surprisingly exact answer caused her to pause for a second. “Okay…anyway, this language is really old. It took our computers a bit, but we were able to get you the names.”

“Names?” Tommy raised an eyebrow and looked over at Sean. “I’m going to put you on speaker so Sean can hear.” He tapped another button on the screen and set the phone on the bed.

“Can you both hear me?”

“Yep,” the two said simultaneously.

“Like I was saying, the two words you sent us to translate are names.”

“What names?” Sean asked. “Who are we talking about here?”

Alex jumped in on the other end. “The first name was one we didn’t recognize. It’s a historical Jewish name, not used very frequently anymore, but back around three thousand years ago it was fairly common. The name was Lamesh.”

Sean and Tommy glanced at each other, but neither had any clue who that might have been.

“The other one,” Alex continued, “is definitely one that you’ll recognize. We aren’t 100 percent sure if it’s the same guy, but based on what Tommy said about the timeframe of the high priest’s burial, it would be a logical conclusion to jump to.”

“What’s the name, Alex?” Tommy pressed, trying to be polite. His assistant tended to ramble from time to time.

“Oh, sorry. It’s Daniel.”

Tommy and Sean gave each other an intrigued glance.

Sean spoke before Tommy could. “Daniel? As in, the Old Testament prophet, Daniel? Like Daniel in the lions’ den?”

“That’s what we believe,” Tara jumped back in. “We can’t confirm that was the guy the name is indicating. There may have been thousands of Daniels around that time. However, based on the fact that this Tovar was a high priest and that he would have likely had connections with a known prophet, I would say it’s highly probable that it’s the same Daniel from the
Bible
.”

Sean and Tommy pondered the implications.

“Is it possible that Daniel was one of the guys the priest sent away to protect the relics?” Sean was talking to Tommy, but the two on the phone also heard him.

“What?” Alex asked awkwardly.

“Sorry,” Tommy offered. “Earlier, we figured out what the riddle meant. At least we think we did. Tovar sent two men, each with a precious temple object, to two places far apart from each other.”

“Why?” Tara asked.

“To protect the relics from the invading Babylonian army,” Sean explained. “The items were considered to be extremely powerful, and if they were to fall into the wrong hands, it would have meant catastrophe for the entire world. At least that’s what we’ve gathered from the records.” He embellished a little, but it was based on what Karem had told them. “One of the relics is called the Hoshen; it’s the breastplate that the high priest wore in the temple. The other is two stones known as the Urim and the Thummim. They were probably kept together, from what we can tell.”

Tommy cut back in. “If Daniel was one of the emissaries used to protect one of the relics, he would have had to have been the one sent back into Babylon.”

“Thus the part of the riddle that talks about the belly of the beast. Several places in the
Bible
refer to Babylon as the beast — in Daniel and Revelation, in particular,” Sean added.

“Right,” Tommy agreed. “Daniel spent a great deal of time in Nebuchadnezzar’s court before and after the second invasion of Jerusalem. It’s entirely possible that the king sent him to parlay with the king of Judah to negotiate terms. If Daniel had a chance to get to the temple and meet with the high priest, he would have. In fact, I’d say that was his first priority, unbeknownst to Nebuchadnezzar.”

A silent pause came over the room. After a few seconds, Alex came back on the line. “Do you guys always think this way?”

Sean stole a quick glance at his friend and smirked. “Doesn’t everyone?”

“Um, no. Not really. I guess that’s why you guys are the best at what you do.” Tara’s said. The compliment made both of them blush a little.

Tommy ignored it. “There was something else when we were in the priest’s tomb. Three emblems were carved into the stone at three specific points surrounding the sarcophagus: the Star of David, an image of Ahura Mazda, and one other emblem.  The first two were pretty obvious, but the last one was tricky. It’s a Buddhist emblem, from what I recall, a picture of two fish.”

He waited for a moment before Alex’s voice came through again. “In the Buddhist religion, the two-fish symbol is meant for one who is willing to face a difficult trial, essentially what could be a lifetime of sacrifice and suffering. Many monks considered it to be their divine obligation to take on such an existence. I wonder why that and the Babylonian symbol were there.”

“Ahura Mazda,” Sean spoke up, “was also said to have gone through great trials along his journey. Tovar must have known he was sending these two young men on an extremely dangerous mission. They would be on the run, always looking over their shoulders for the rest of their lives. It was a great sacrifice they had to make to protect their people.”

It was a sobering thought, and one that brought about silent reflection to the four on the phone.

“Is there anything else you two have for us?” Tommy asked.

“That’s it for now. Sorry we couldn’t get you more information.” Tara sounded apologetic.

“You did great. This, combined with what we figured out, means we definitely have something to go on.”

“So you found the answer to the code. Where to next?” Alex sounded genuinely curious.

Sean answered. “Java in Indonesia. The world’s oldest Buddhist temple is there, a place called Borobudur. From what we can deduce, it was the hiding place of one of the relics. We’re not sure which one, though.”

A pause hung in the room for a few seconds, and then Alex spoke up again. “It looks like this Buddhist temple is a UNESCO world heritage site. It was abandoned a long time ago, when most of the people in the area converted to Islam. Have either of you ever seen this place?”

Tommy and Sean passed each other a questioning look, and both shook their heads. “Actually, I have once but I didn’t get to roam around much. There were…extenuating circumstances,” Tommy said.

Sean raised an eyebrow at the curious comment.

“Oh, wow. Okay,” Alex interrupted. “I’ll just assume you don’t know much about the site. You should know that it’s a huge facility. I can’t imagine how many hours it took to lay all those stones. Not to mention how many people were used for the labor.”

“Anyway,” Tara cut him off, “good luck, and let us know if you need anything.”

Tommy grinned. “Will do, Tara. Thanks to both of you.”

He ended the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket.

Sean eyed him suspiciously as he finished collecting his things. “You really haven’t been to Borobudur?”

“Shocking, I know.”

“I mean, I guess you can’t see everything. Or can you?” He stuffed a Ziploc bag containing his toothbrush and toothpaste into one of the bags. “I heard about a blogger who visited every country in the world.”

“That’s impressive,” Tommy said, pressing his lips together.

“Yeah. I would have thought together we could have at least done that.”

“We’re not dead yet.”

The words hung in the hotel room’s industrial, filtered air.

“Here’s hoping that doesn’t happen anytime soon.”

Dubai

Sharouf held the phone to his ear. All he heard was the intermittent ringing of the device on the other end. No answer.

He’d tried calling four times over the course of the last forty minutes. For some reason, his men weren’t answering. With each subsequent failed call, Sharouf’s anger grew, and his frustration built.

He ended the call and stared at the phone for a few seconds, trying to understand why no one was answering. At the moment, Sharouf was alone. Mamoud was busy handling a few business matters and had retired to his office to take care of things, leaving Sharouf to make sure things in Israel were going according to plan.

When Mamoud had recruited him, Sharouf had come at a hefty price. His reputation with various paramilitary groups and private security organizations had preceded him. Mamoud gave him a room in the mansion, not as luxurious as his own, but better than Sharouf had ever called his own. The downside was that he had traded his freedom for a life of ease and wealth. Most of the time, he didn’t need to do much, occasionally encourage someone to leave the premises. Rarely, he had to eliminate a problem.

Now, he stared out his window. He’d kept his room minimally decorated compared to the rest of the home. His black wooden bed was covered in plain white sheets. The only other furniture in the room was a small chair made of maple, which he used simply for putting his shoes and socks on in the morning. The last piece of decor was his prayer mat that sat under the window. Despite the ruthless and often cruel nature of his job, Sharouf believed himself to be a deeply religious man, which was another reason he chose to work for Mamoud. The two were like brothers when it came to their ways of thinking. They believed in the old ways, the ways of the Saracens and the sultans of old. Only through the sword could peace be achieved. The peace they sought, however, was through the destruction of the West.

Sharouf had a special hatred of the Americans.

He’d served a tour with one of the private security companies in Iraq during the American occupation there. He’d watched as the American soldiers treated Muslims like subhumans, killing first and asking questions later. They cracked jokes and made bets on how many Muslims they could kill in a day, all the while thinking that Sharouf didn’t speak English. Every word and every action that came from the Americans seeped deep into his soul. He stored the experiences and the things he learned in the vault of his mind to be called upon later, when the time was right. In a black Denali with several other security team members wasn’t the right place or the right time.

Now, however, things were changing. Mamoud was giving him his chance for payback, and he must not fail. His employer shared Sharouf’s vision, and more importantly, possessed the resources to make it happen.

But things, evidently, were not going according to plan.

One thing Sharouf had learned a long time ago was never to put all his eggs into one basket. He had confidence in the men he'd sent to eliminate Wyatt. If that hadn’t been the case, he would have sent others, or simply more men. But even the best-laid plans fell apart from time to time. Sharouf was well aware of this, which was why he’d not entirely played his hand yet. Sometimes, it was best to hold a card for later.

He scrolled through his contact list and found the name he was looking for, tapped it, and waited for the phone to ring. The man on the other end answered instantly.

“Your men are dead.”

Sharouf recognized the voice as one of his trusted mercenaries, but the news with he provided when answering the call was direct and troubling.

“Both of them?”

“Yes.”

“What happened?”

The voice relayed how the other two went into Nehem’s apartment to ambush Wyatt and his companions. He hadn’t seen what happened inside, but he did see when one of the men was pushed over the railing to the ground below.

“The fall killed him?” Sharouf asked.

“No. His leg was broken. The police were on their way. I had to kill him myself.” The voice was cold. Clearly, taking another human life meant absolutely nothing to him. He may as well have squashed an ant.

“What about the other?” Sharouf tried to sound businesslike, masking the concern in his tone.

“He was basically dead when I found him lying on his back in the apartment. He was unconscious, barely breathing. His jaw and nose were broken, probably making it hard to breathe. I helped him stop breathing.”

Sharouf listened carefully to the vague account. His observer had handled things exactly as he would have. Loose ends were not tolerated. It would have made for a sticky situation if his assassins had been taken to a hospital and kept in custody. If one were to talk to the police and tell them who he worked for, Mamoud’s carefully woven anonymity would be exposed, and his entire operation would crumble like a paper-thin cracker under a boot. Sharouf himself knew that were he to fail, death was the only way out. No hospitals. No police. Even he could not be permitted to become a potential loose end. So delicate were the plans Mamoud had laid.

“It would seem the Americans are going to be more trouble than we first suspected,” the man said.

Sharouf would not admit that he’d underestimated Wyatt and his companion. To do so would appear weak and ill prepared. He could afford neither. “Our men may have underestimated them, but I did not. Wyatt is a highly trained killer, and his friend has been in more than a few fights. If they were careless, our men deserved what they got. While it is unfortunate, we must move on. Tell me, where did they go?”

“I put a GPS tracker on their car. After I took care of the two problems, I was able to track them to Tel Aviv. They were staying at a hotel on the edge of the city. According to the tracking device, the car they were in stopped at the hotel and then went to another address on the north side of town.”

“A decoy?”

“No,” the voice said. “They had a driver. He dropped them off and probably went home. I stuck around, assuming they would probably be in a hurry to leave.”

“And were they?” Sharouf scratched his chin as he listened to the account.

“Yes. They came out the front doors around ten minutes after I arrived. They got in a car that took them to the airport. That is where I am sitting right now.”

Sharouf weighed the information. The Americans left in a hurry. At least that was what his observer was telling him. That could mean a few things. One, they were afraid after the failed attack and decided to get out of the country while they still could.

He wanted to believe that was the case, but Sharouf was no fool. People like Wyatt and Schultz weren’t easily spooked. It would take more than a couple of hired guns to scare them off.

The other possibility, and the likelier one, in Sharouf’s mind, was that they had figured out a piece of the puzzle. If he could find out where they were going, Sharouf could circumvent the slow work Nehem was doing. It was a hopeful plan, but it could work. All he needed was to know where Wyatt was headed.

“Do you know where their plane went?”

The man on the other end took a deep breath and sighed. “No.”

Well, it was worth a try.

“But,” he continued, “I did see the plane they flew in.”

Sharouf perked up, his right eyebrow rising slightly. “Go on.”

“It was a private jet, kept in one of the hangars on the outskirts of the tarmac. Easy enough to spot since it was parked alone. As it took off, I was able to write down the numbers on the side of the tail.”

“Give them to me.”