Seconds later Bennett was cleared to proceed down a long, dark hallway, almost like a tunnel, covered by the limestone that jutted right through the external wall and ended where a wide, circular staircase began.
The great room into which he ascended was as stunning as ever. Thick, rich, gorgeous purple-and-gold-and-maroon Persian rugs covered the polished brown hardwood floors. Lush young palm trees — at least half a dozen of them — rose out of huge reddish clay pots positioned here and there. Large brown Italian-leather couches and chairs surrounded a glass and wrought-iron coffee table adorned with ancient archeological artifacts from all over the Near East along with the latest newsmagazines from Israel, Europe, and the U.S.
A sleek, black baby grand piano occupied one corner of the room. A collection of Jackson Pollock paintings adorned the walls. He could smell roast lamb and the ginger and turmeric and coriander of an Indian curry that was one of Mordechai’s specialties.
Bennett loved this house, but there were memories here that still haunted him. The fire damage had been repaired. The shell casings had long since been removed. But as Bennett closed his eyes for a moment, he didn’t hear the trickle of a water fountain or the roaring fire in the great stone fireplace; he heard explosions. The gentle strains of a Bach violin concerto seeping from small Bose speakers hidden all over the house were replaced by gunfire and the screams of those hit when bullets found their marks. He no longer smelled the sumptuous dinner cooking in the kitchen; he smelled the stench of gunpowder hanging in the air.
Bennett scanned the cavernous room.
The air was cool and soft. Thunder rumbled outside. A rare September storm was building, as were the flashbacks of that grisly December night.
The images still haunted him. Perhaps they always would. But they also brought back vivid memories of the woman who’d saved his life. He could still see Erin firing at a man in the shadows. He could see her rushing to his side. He could hear her begging him to stay with her and pleading with God to save his life and his soul.
Bennett was suddenly overcome with shame. Was he on his knees before God, pleading for her life every day? Why not? What was wrong with him?
And then Mordechai startled him with a tap on the shoulder.
“Hungry?”
Bennett had never eaten so well.
Roast-lamb kebabs. Couscous. Mixed vegetables sautéed in butter and some kind of Middle Eastern spices. It was almost as if Mordechai had been expecting him after all.
By ten, dinner was over. The two men relaxed in the living room beside the fire, sipping Turkish coffee and eating baklava. They’d covered the lack of news on McCoy, and the latest news from Moscow and Washington, and the meeting with Doron. And as they did, Bennett suddenly realized how much he had missed his old friend, the man who had led him to Christ, this brilliant, fascinating man who always seemed to have time for him.
He knew Mordechai was worried about him. He was running on empty. Life on the political bullet train hurtled by so fast he barely had time to breathe much less pray. But there was something about being back in this home, with logs crackling in the fireplace, that made Bennett ache for things that mattered most.
“So,” he said finally, “about my mother’s question.”
Mordechai raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were not interested.”
“Inquiring minds want to know.” Bennett smiled.
“Very well, then. Let us begin. Grab that copy of the Scriptures.”
On the coffee table in front of him, Bennett found an old, leather-bound volume and carefully opened the brittle, yellowed pages. It was a side-by-side Hebrew-English edition of the Jewish Scriptures known as the Tanakh. It included the Torah — the five books of Moses — as well as the books written by the Hebrew prophets and the Ketuvim, or other sacred writings, such as the Psalms and Proverbs.
“Where are we headed?” asked Bennett.
“Daniel chapter 9, verses 26 and 27.”
Bennett found the passage.
Knowing no Hebrew but shalom, Bennett began reading from the column in English.
It all seemed like gibberish to Bennett, an ancient riddle he had no capacity to decode. He was no Bible scholar. Erin had a strong working knowledge of the Scriptures. Mordechai was a master. But Bennett was a novice, and he was lost.
“You have to understand, Jonathan, that Daniel was one of the most extraordinary prophets in Scripture. He wrote a great deal about the End Times, and though he never used the term Antichrist, Daniel’s meaning is crystal clear.
“He tells us the Antichrist will be a prince — a ruler, a demonic dictator the likes of which mankind has never seen before and will never see again. The sixty-two ‘weeks’ Daniel mentions are literally ‘sixty-two sevens.’ The term can also be translated ‘sixty-two weeks of years,’ or sixty-two periods of seven years. So sixty-two weeks means 434 years. A ‘firm covenant with the many for one week’ refers to a peace treaty the Antichrist will sign with Israel, ‘the many,’ for seven years. But after half that time — three and a half years — he will break it. We also learn that he will put an end to Jewish control of the holy Temple and desecrate the Temple with some sort of ‘abomination.’ ”
Bennett wanted to take notes, something he could e-mail to his mom. He’d never remember all this. For now, however, he had the sense he should just listen.
“In Daniel 11:39–45,” Mordechai continued, “we learn this enemy of God will be a ferocious conqueror. He will invade and conquer many countries. He will invade Israel, which Daniel describes as ‘the Beautiful Land.’ And ‘with great wrath,’ this global dictator will ‘annihilate many.’
“Now, when you add these clues to all the others in Scripture, the picture is very sobering: the Anti-Messiah — or Antichrist — will be the most powerful ruler the world has ever seen. In 2 Thessalonians 2:3 he is called the ‘son of perdition’ or ‘man of lawlessness,’ which many scholars believe means that he will be indwelt by Satan himself. He will be a master deceiver. And he will be on the warpath against God, God’s followers, and anyone who will not bow down and worship this king who calls himself a god.”
“Wait a minute,” Bennett said. “You’re saying that Daniel predicted that Gogolov would invade Israel and annihilate the Jews — three thousand years ago?”
“He predicted that the Antichrist would, yes.”
“But is Gogolov the Antichrist?” Bennett pressed.
“That is the million-dollar question, is it not? OK, now go back to Daniel 9:26. There is a critical clue for how to identify the Antichrist.”