"Jesus?" Galishnikov blurted out. "But you're Jewish, for crying out loud."
"So was Jesus," said Mordechai, now cleaning out his pipe.
"But I don't get it," said Bennett, genuinely curious. "What's the former head of the Israeli Mossad doing going around quoting Jesus?"
Mordechai looked around at the group.
"It's all about sources, my friends. And I told you already, there's only one question that counts: is the source telling the truth? If he isn't, cut him loose. But if he is, you'd better hold on tight and listen good, 'cause the stuff he gives you could save your life."
Jibril sent instructions to his men in the field.
They had only a few hours to make final preparations. Later that day, the first team would take off from the island of Malta, in the middle of the Mediterranean, not far from Libya. They'd fly a westerly course in a Learjet owned by a Lebanese shipping magnate. The second team would leave from Cairo, flying northwest on a Citation occasionally leased by the Syrian oil minister when he vacationed in North Africa with his mistress. The third team would use speedboats rented in the Spanish enclave of Ceuta on the coast of Morocco. The fourth team would take off from Paris in a Gulfstream V, newly purchased by a Saudi sheikh. Their flight plan would take them to Malaga, on the southern coast of Spain. They'd refuel there, supposedly drop off a few corporate clients, then head to Gibraltar for a few days of rest and relaxation.
That was the cover story, anyway. Bland and routine.
Bennett stared into the darkness.
It was almost two in the morning on Tuesday. His team had been back from dinner for almost four hours and he still couldn't sleep. The pains in his stomach weren't subsiding. He got up, stumbled into the bathroom and took another a handful of ibuprofen and antacids. Then he splashed some water on his face and climbed back into bed.
A new stack of faxes from the White House and directives from the NSC and State Department were waiting for him. But he had no interest in reading them. All he could think about was the conversation with Mordechai.
He kept chewing it over piece by piece. The guy certainly had a lot of secrets. His years in the Mossad. The house in Jerusalem. One of the most highly respected men in Israel, yet a covert Christian. But was he right? He'd been right about a lot. He did his homework, and there was no question something was different about him. It wasn't just his knack for knowing things nobody else seemed to, or his gentle, relaxed manner — a bit counterintuitive for a man who had killed more people than Bennett could count. There was something else. Bennett couldn't quite put his finger on it, but it intrigued him. McCoy had it, too. So did the president. It was a sense of peace, a sense of purpose that he didn't have. These people weren't afraid. They weren't scared of the future. They chose life, but they weren't scared of death. They seemed to know exactly where they were going and who they were going to see when they got there. And the more Bennett spent time with them, the more he thought they just might be right.
Mordechai certainly wasn't the kind of person to base his faith on some slick-talking television evangelist or touchy-feely emotional experience. He knew all the arguments for and against, and he'd come out for.
"I just started studying the source documents," Mordechai told the three of them just before they left the restaurant. "I just started reading the Jewish prophets to see what they said to look for in the Messiah. I found out Micah said the Messiah would be born in Bethlehem. Honestly, I'd never known that. Isaiah said the Messiah would be born of a virgin, and live in Galilee. I'd never read that before."
Neither had Bennett. His parents hadn't even owned a Bible when he was growing up. And they'd been in Moscow. It wasn't like he was going to stumble into one.
"Daniel," Mordechai went on, "said after the Messiah was 'cut off,' Jerusalem and the Jewish Temple would be destroyed by an occupying power. David said 'evil men' would kill the Messiah in a merciless fashion, and that his hands and feet would be 'pierced.' Isaiah said the Messiah would be 'pierced for our transgressions' and 'crushed for our iniquities.' He said 'the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed.' He also said the Messiah couldn't be held down by the grave but would live again and 'prolong his days.' I could go on and on. But look, I'm no rocket scientist. I just looked at the picture the prophets were painting, and I said, who does that look like?"
Then Mordechai said something Bennett couldn't shake.
"One day I was reading a parable that Jesus told his disciples. He said the kingdom of God is a like a treasure hidden in a field. When a man found it, he hid it again, and then in his joy went and sold all he had and bought that field. And it hit me, Jonathan. I was that man. I knew the truth. I'd found buried treasure. But what was I going to do about it? Walk away? Ignore it? Or follow Christ whatever the cost?"
Bennett kept thinking about that. He had a million questions. He wanted to research everything Mordechai had said in great detail, and in time he would. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized he didn't need anything else to make a decision. He was ready.
He slipped out of bed and got down on his knees. He didn't know why exactly. It just seemed humble, reverent — not qualities with which he most identified, but maybe the right thing to do. And there in the darkness he cut a deal with God. He'd believe that Jesus died on the cross and rose from the dead. He'd follow Him with everything he had. He just wanted to know two things: that he was forgiven for every stupid thing he'd ever said or done, and that he was going to heaven if he never lived to see another day.
There was no flash of lightning. No angels singing hallelujahs. But in his heart Bennett knew the deal was done. He had his buried treasure. And he: ould sleep.
FORTY-SIX
Gogolov's forces were now on the move.
It was Tuesday, January 4, and the first to make contact was the gift shop on Gibraltar. It was just after five in the morning there and something was afoot.
Nothing was being reported on local radio, TV, or in the newspapers. But police activity was definitely increasing. A few extra officers at the airport. A few more undercover cops patrolling the summit. And something was stirring at Devil's Tower Camp. Lights had been on all night. Vehicles were moving in and out.
Jibril was concerned. DTC was the base camp for the Royal Gibraltar Regiment, the British army forces assigned to maintain security on the Rock, as well as provide a daily ceremonial guard outside the governor's residence. Together with a squadron of Royal Marines, the regiment's three infantry rifle companies were an impressive defensive shield. So far as Jibril knew, no exercises were planned so early in the New Year. But why all the commotion? On the plus side, "Gift Shop" had learned that a party of four had dined at the Top of the World the night before, spending eight hundred dollars. The name on the credit card: Dmitri Galishnikov — Ibrahim Sa'id's Israeli partner.
The next contact came at 6:00 a.m., Gibraltar time. The Libyan travel agent had a lead. She'd just gotten into the office and found a message on her answering machine from four very irate Brits on holiday. Their dinner reservations for Tuesday night at the Top of the World restaurant had suddenly been canceled with no explanation. They were told the restaurant would simply be closed all day, with apologies. They could come back the next night at a discount.
Jibril briefed Gogolov. It wasn't much to go on. But it might have to do. One possibility was that Doron and Sa'id were heading up to the Top of the World for dinner that night, and the activity they were picking up were preparations for their first night out of the "caves." Another possibility was that Doron and Sa'id were going to fly out of the Gibraltar airport that night, and security teams were simply sealing the high ground to prevent Stinger missile attacks from the summit. Still another possibility was that none of this had to do with anything and it was all just wishful thinking.