The samson effect a nove.., p.24
The Samson Effect: A Novel, page 24
“Maybe. My brother’s men are crawling all over the place. Fortunately, many left with him a few minutes ago. We’ll never have a better opportunity to try.”
They grabbed the rifles dropped by the dead men. “Uh, Thomas, maybe Delia and I should take these.”
Thomas grudgingly gave up his rifle to Delia but made no argument.
They followed her up the stairs. She cracked the door and waited until the hallway was clear before sprinting out. They heard footsteps coming toward them from around the corner and ducked into a supply closet. They remained silent until they saw the shadow under the door pass by.
When he felt it was safe to whisper, Michael asked, “Where are we going?”
“Before she died, mother had a room at the end of the hall. If we make it there, we have a chance.”
“I memorized the map of this compound,” Michael said. “There’s no room at the end of the hall.”
One look from Delia silenced Michael. “As I was saying, if we make it there, we should be fine. The tough part will be slipping through the window and sprinting across the open courtyard without being spotted. If we make it to the back gate, we just slip through it and lose ourselves in the bazaar a block away.”
“This may be a stupid question,” Thomas said, “but doesn’t your brother have guards to protect the rear of the compound?”
“He has two, but the one on duty right now is lying in the cell we just left.”
“Let’s hope he hadn’t planned on being gone long enough to find someone to watch his post for him.”
They followed Delia’s plan without incident and in five minutes found themselves lost in a sea of merchants and shoppers. They made their way to the spot where Michael had left his car. “Praise be to Allah, it’s still here,” Delia said.
Michael gave his keys to Delia and jumped into the backseat. He stretched out, forcing Thomas to the front seat. Delia started the car and eased it down the alley and onto the road.
She drove around the busy streets and caught them up on her brother’s insane plan. When she finished, Thomas felt ill.
“Where’s the plant and the seeds?” Michael demanded.
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen them since we left the lab. If I know my brother at all, I’m sure he’ll have them close to him until he arranges to have them planted.”
“You said something about him going to a hangar.”
“Probably the abandoned hangar outside Hebron. He uses it every so often. It’s big and private.”
“Well, let’s go,” Thomas said. “We have to stop him.”
“You don’t understand. This hangar is in the middle of a flat area of desert. He’ll be able to see us coming from a mile away. There’s no way to sneak in. It’s why he often meets there.”
“We can’t just let him carry this out. If he does have the seeds on him, we have to find a way to get them back before he grows them in some hidden-away location.
This may be our only chance.”
“I know that! But you didn’t see him. He has the gift. It’d be suicide to approach him, and you two look half-dead already.” Thomas noticed the knuckles gripping the steering wheel were white. She slowed her breathing. “Do you understand if he sees us alive again, his patience will be gone? He’ll kill us on the spot.”
“I believe Michael and I are very clear about his intentions for us.”
“I want to stop him as much as you do. I’m out of options. I’m open for suggestions.”
She was right, Thomas thought. It would be suicide to confront Azim tonight, or perhaps ever. Besides, after his performance on Michael’s roof, he felt the least qualified to create a plan. “I wish I did have a suggestion for you. What do you think, Michael?”
He glanced in the backseat. Michael had his ear to the cell phone. He identified himself and launched into an abbreviated account of what had just happened to them and of Azim’s plan. He never said another word except “Thank you” before ending the call.
“Who was that?” Delia asked.
“That was our ticket to see your brother tonight.”
* * * *
The Council convened in a conference room at a Tel Aviv bank located a few miles from the airport. All ten members were present. The ambassador finished his call with Michael and reviewed with the Foreign Ministry official the plan he and Michael had just created. When they completed their conversation, they joined the others around the table.
A hush fell over the room as everyone waited for the ambassador to speak. “Let me begin by apologizing for my nephew’s foolish and reckless behavior. Fortunately, he’s come out of hiding. He’s been able to successfully grow the seed.”
Excited murmurs filled the room.
“Unfortunately, he lost the plant and the five seeds it had produced to Azim Ebadi.”
The excited murmur turned to anger and fear. The ambassador stood and slammed his fist onto the tabletop. The sharp crack silenced everyone. “Let me finish!”
He had everyone’s undivided attention. “Azim and two of his top men have ingested the plant.” The ambassador swallowed. “They’re as strong as Samson.” By the time he had told them of Azim’s master plan, everyone at the table looked like broken men.
“We must get the seeds,” the general said.
“We have a plan to accomplish just that. Jonathon has an agent in the foreign ministry who has infiltrated the Palestinian leadership in Lebanon. He’s been invited to attend Azim’s ‘coming out’ party tonight. I’ve arranged for him to pick up Michael—”
“Hasn’t your nephew done enough?”
Everyone stared in silent anticipation, no one yet hinting as to whether they agreed with the general or not.
“No one feels as badly as I do about what he’s done, but lest you forget, no one has seen the seeds in over three thousand years, and they’d still be lost if it weren’t for Michael.”
The general glared at the ambassador but finally submitted with a nod. The ambassador took a deep breath and continued. “As I was saying, I’ve arranged for Jonathon’s man to pick up Michael and take him to the hangar. That should get him close enough to find a way inside.”
“This is your brilliant plan? It’s a suicide mission,” the general scoffed.
“I didn’t say it was brilliant, it’s just the only plan we could put together under the circumstances.”
“There’s no way he can do that without help. Listen to me. I’ve planned and participated in hundreds of covert operations in my career.”
“I’d welcome any suggestions from you, General.”
“Yarconi and his men are good. Call him. Give him the objectives and let him draw up the plan.”
The ambassador nodded. “Thank you, General. I’ll call him when we adjourn.” Speaking to the entire Council, he said, “I’ll contact each of you when we hear something. I’ll be here for the evening, so anyone who wishes to stay, may. I’ll also call the rabbi and have him join me here immediately. I don’t want him in Hebron tonight. Any questions?”
The general parted his lips but looked around the table and eased back into the chair.
“Something on your mind, General?”
The general stared at him for a moment and then shook his head.
“If there’s nothing else, we’re adjourned.”
The Council members rose from their chairs and the buzz of conversation filled the room. The ambassador had picked up the phone to call Colonel Yarconi when the general stepped up to him. He lowered the phone. “I take it you did have something to say.”
“It’s about Michael. I felt it best we talk in private.”
The ambassador squeezed his lips and nodded. “I appreciate that. What is it?”
“When you contact Yarconi, make sure your nephew is not involved. He’ll only be a liability.”
“There’s no way Michael’s going to stand by and not do anything, even if I order him to.”
“Find a way to keep him away from the hangar, even if you have to have him arrested.”
* * * *
“Tobin, Aaron, I want you to leave at once and meet Ambassador Ben Hur at this address in Tel Aviv.” He handed Aaron a sheet of paper. “Tell him I said it’s my sworn duty to protect our secret, and I’m going to do what I have to do to carry out that duty. Stress to him that the Lord will take care of everything. Things are not as hopeless as they appear.”
The two men looked at Judas, their eyes begging him to let them stay behind and face whatever challenges he was facing. However, they obeyed without question.
When they left, Judas thought of the altar room. Part of him was glad the key was gone. It might have proved to be too much of a temptation to take another dose of the mixture. He would face Azim as a mortal man and kill him this very night. He dropped to his knees in prayer, asking for the Lord’s favor and praying that his rabbi was accurate when he delivered the oral knowledge of The Secret to him. He stayed in prayer until twilight and then rose, retrieved the dagger from his bedroom, and strapped it to the inside of his thigh.
Before he left, he changed into his rabbinic robe and tunic. He felt the dagger against his leg with each step. He continued his walk through the streets of Hebron until he arrived at Azim’s compound. Without fear, he stepped up to the guard at the front door. He ignored the rifle barrels only inches from his chest.
“Tell Azim Ebadi the Protector of the Lord’s Strength wishes to speak with him now.”
Chapter 28
FOR THE FIRST time in his life, Michael cursed his uncle. He looked at his watch again. The man from the Foreign Ministry was supposed to have met him across the street from the Tomb of the Patriarchs thirty minutes ago. Thomas knew Michael better than anyone. He could see Michael’s pain and disappointment buried beneath his anger.
Michael leaned over the front seat and took the keys from the ignition. “I can’t wait any longer. I’m going to the hangar. You two get out.”
Delia grabbed his arm. “What are you talking about?”
“I said, get out. I’m not about to drag you two into the arms of death with me.”
“Then don’t go,” Thomas said.
“Have you come up with a brilliant plan? You know as well as I do Azim must be stopped tonight.”
Thomas struggled to find words of wisdom that would deter Michael, but he hit a dead end. In frustration, he blurted, “You can’t…”
Michael leaned back in the seat and rolled his eyes with a chuckle. “Even you know I’m right.”
“I’m going with you.”
Thomas whipped his head toward Delia. “You can’t be serious.” He looked from one to the other. “What are you going to do? Just walk up to him and beat him into submission?”
Neither answered.
“At least get a weapon. Azim’s men cleaned out everything you brought.”
“Not everything.” Michael stepped out of the car and opened the trunk. He was back a minute later with two pistols and a box of ammunition. He loaded the pistols and handed one to Delia along with an extra clip and a handful of bullets.
“You two are serious, aren’t you? In case you’ve forgotten, we’re dealing with an enemy of biblical proportions. Biblical, Michael! Jawbone of an ass and fiery furnace proportions.”
Again, neither answered. Thomas threw himself back into his seat and shook his head. Then, the fire flared in his side again.
“This is as far as you go, my friend. I never intended to entangle you so deeply in this. I’ll call for someone to pick you up when we leave.”
Thomas didn’t move. Where was he going to go? How long could he outrun the authorities; long enough to be swept away by Azim’s army of Samsons? He knew Michael was right; they didn’t have the luxury of waiting for the cavalry. They had to do something tonight if they had a prayer of stopping Azim. He laid his head against the headrest. “Give me a gun.” The words caught in his throat. He never would have thought he’d ever have to shoot another human.
“Thomas, please—”
“You said it yourself. It’s now or never. Besides, I don’t exactly have any place to go.” He reached his arm into the backseat. “Well?”
“I’m afraid I only have two guns. If you go, you’ll be unarmed.”
Thomas knew it wasn’t logical, but a wave of relief swept over him. “Well, I guess I’ll have to trust you two for protection, won’t I?”
“You know the guns probably won’t stop Azim.”
“I’m going.”
* * * *
Two of Azim’s men pulled the battered rabbi from their car and dragged him to the hangar door. Judas held his left hand in his right hand, trying to keep his three broken fingers from touching anything. The pain in his fingers far surpassed the pain from the lacerations on his face and the burns on his arms. He wished they had killed him, but he knew Azim was eager to see the famed rabbi from whom the Lord had departed.
The door slid open, and his escorts threw him into the hangar. He stumbled and fell at Azim’s feet. “So, this is the mighty rabbi.” Azim rolled Judas onto his back with his foot. “How long before I need another dose in order to keep my strength?”
Judas didn’t answer. Azim reached down and picked him up by his tunic, holding Judas in midair. “Answer me.” When he refused to speak, Azim threw him to another man fifteen feet away. “Sofian, see what you can do to get him to talk.”
Sofian wore the grin of a boy who was about to pluck the wings from a fly before squashing it in his hands. As he bent down to pick Judas up, Judas choked out the answer through bloody, swollen lips. “Two weeks.”
Judas heard Azim’s shoes click on the concrete as Azim approached. He tried to lift himself when the clicks stopped next to him, but his rubbery arms buckled under his effort.
“Thank you, Rabbi. The more you cooperate, the less painful your death will be.” He picked Judas up again and carried him to the back row of folding chairs his men had set up in the hangar. There were at least one hundred chairs but fewer than ten people huddled together in the first row. He felt his strength drain away, and he had to stretch out on the two chairs next to him. He closed his eyes and listened to Azim release his anger behind him.
“This is it? Ten people?”
“Azim,” Rajah said, “the religious leaders don’t know you yet—”
“Yet! But they will, and when they do, they’ll regret their arrogance toward me. These ten people shall be rewarded for their faith when I lead Allah’s army to victory.”
Judas heard Azim’s footsteps fade away toward the makeshift stage up front. “Bring him.”
Sofian grabbed Judas’s right foot, yanked him to the floor, and dragged him down the aisle as if he were dragging a dog by the collar. Once they reached the stage, Sofian lifted him above the platform and tossed him at Azim’s feet. When Judas opened his eyes, he was looking out over the chairs at people who were clearly bewildered by Sofian’s show of strength.
Azim’s voice thundered through speakers across the empty hangar. “My dear friends, thank you for answering my invitation on such short notice. As I said in my invitation, today is the day Allah has chosen to begin fulfilling his promises through his prophet Mohammed. Today is the day you and I can answer his call and be rewarded by our great faith in him.”
Judas tried to pull himself up, but his strength was gone. He listened to Azim tell the sparse crowd about Allah’s gift to him, and Azim promised a demonstrations that would prove he was Allah’s new prophet. Despair washed over Judas as Azim revealed details about the gift with uncanny accuracy. He was the first protector since the days of Moses to lose the Lord’s Strength to Yahweh’s enemies.
He was so weak. As hard as he tried, he was powerless to do anything to stop Azim. Then, Sofian made his task nearly impossible by grabbing him like a ragdoll and dragging him back to a folding chair behind the meager crowd. Conflicting emotions washed over Judas as he melted into the comfort of the chair while despair enveloped him as he realized he would have to watch Azim shining victoriously on stage.
Then the demonstrations began.
Azim stepped up to a sedan parked on the stage and ran his fingers delicately across the fenders. “When the jihad begins, I will have thousands of soldiers all over the earth. Some will be operating the bullet train between Paris and London; some will be on Wall Street. Everywhere there’s power and fortune, my soldiers will be there, awaiting my command to strike. When they do …” His forearm shattered the driver’s window, and he ripped the door from the car with one hand and tossed it to Rajah, who caught it like a Frisbee. “… my soldiers will be as strong as we are.”
Prayers and praise to Allah rang out from the meager audience. To accentuate his strength, Azim bent down and gripped the front of the car. With but a little show of exertion, he lifted the front end and held the car as steadily as a pair of jacks. He looked over his guests and stoically accepted their praise and reverence. He put an exclamation on his exhibition by dropping the car. It crashed down upon the stage and rocked on its shocks to a halt.
“Imagine what thousands like me will be able to do in the name of Allah.”
A sickening feeling bubbled from the pit of Judas’s gut. He silently mouthed a prayer to Yahweh, pleading for the gift to return to him as the Lord had granted to Samson, one last time, to kill his enemies. He waited but felt nothing except pain from his injuries. His hand drifted to his thigh. Through his robe, he felt the hilt of the dagger strapped to him.
Judas finally accepted that the strength was not going to return upon him. He prayed for just enough strength to stagger on his feet far enough to thrust the dagger into Azim’s belly. He also prayed that what his rabbi had told him about the secret was correct. If so, Azim would die tonight.
