“No, we’re done. Come find us.”
Zemro suggested a location to meet — in the Jewish Quarter, at the Western Wall.
Ten minutes later, they descended a series of steps that led to Kotel Square, a plaza dominated by the ancient but well preserved ruins of the fortification wall where the Jewish Second Temple once stood.
The gold topped Dome of the Rock rose from above the top of the five-story Western Wall, an area also known as the Temple Mount — where the First and Second Temples once stood, Uzi explained. “The Kotel — which is another name for the Western Wall — is two thousand years old and extends another ten stories underground. It’s pretty cool. They give tours but you’d never be able to go down there.”
“Yeah, no kidding.” She took in the length of the wall. “Much bigger than what I imagined from the pictures I’ve seen.”
“I think it’s three football fields long.”
“This is the holiest place on earth to Jews,” Zemro said. “People from all over the world come here to pray, just like they came thousands of years ago to make pilgrimages to the Temple and sacrifices to God.”
As they approached, Vail could see different strata to the masonry — large blocks at the bottom and middle, with smaller bricks toward the top. “What are those plants growing out from between the rocks?”
“There are different kinds,” Zemro said. “Most common is Shikaron. It’s poisonous, some kind of hallucinogenic. The ancient Jews used it as an anesthetic. The Egyptians and Greeks used it for pain relief. The Germans used it in the Middle Ages to make beer. It’s still used nowadays in some medications.”
They stopped at a low wall that stood a few dozen feet in front of the Kotel. A man standing by a tall bin on a ramp that led down to the Kotel handed Uzi and Zemro a couple of white beanies.
“Kippot,” Zemro said to Vail. “Yarmulkas. We wear them on our heads as a sign of respect for God, to remind us that He’s always above us.”
Vail looked out at the Kotel, which dwarfed a number of men in black coats and hats standing with prayer books inches from its surface.
“We can talk here,” Zemro said, moving a few feet to his right, in front of a three-foot wall.
“Hey.” They turned and saw DeSantos approaching. The man at the Kippot bin handed him a yarmulke, and he placed it atop his head. “When in Rome, right?”
Uzi squinted. “Bad analogy.”
“Good point. So was the CI helpful?”
“In more ways than one,” Vail said.
DeSantos tilted his head as he studied Uzi’s face. “Something’s fucked up, isn’t it? I can tell.”
Vail told him about the Amer Madari discovery.
“I knew it!” DeSantos balled a fist and started pacing. “Goddamn it.”
“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Uzi said. “Something’s not adding up. We’ve got some gaps. Mo was meeting with a guy who was seen with Sahmoud. I mean, yeah, it doesn’t look good. But we need to know more.”
“Bullshit. Give me one good explanation.”
“I don’t have one. I just think, for now we … monitor it. And watch our backs.”
“We still have our mission,” Vail said.
“And we might have a mole on our team,” DeSantos said, “working against us. Until I know what the hell’s going on I won’t be trusting him with anything even remotely significant.”
“I asked Hoshi to look into Madari. And Richard Prati at DEA in case they’ve got something on him in the narcoterrorism database.” He leaned on the railing that faced the Kotel. “Raph?”
“Until you hear otherwise, you have to treat him as a hostile. You know the saying. Better safe than sorry. Or my interpretation: better alive than dead.”
Uzi pulled out his satphone and started dialing.
“Who are you calling?” Vail asked.
“Gideon.” He pressed SEND. “Raph, call Shin Bet. Talk to someone there you trust. See if they’ve got anything on Madari. I already sent you the photo.” As Zemro walked off, Uzi waited for his call to connect. When Aksel answered, he glanced around to make sure no one was in earshot, then put it on speaker. “Gideon, it’s Uzi. I need whatever you’ve got on Amer Madari.”
“Am I supposed to know who Amer Madari is?”
“Short answer is yes. I’ll send you a photo. We have him talking with Kadir Abu Sahmoud. And I have Mahmoud El-Fahad meeting with Amer Madari in New York City last week.”
“Hmm.” Aksel was quiet a moment. “Let me talk with some people. Is this a good number for you?”
“I’m actually in Jerusalem.”
There was silence. Then: “Are you doing something I need to know about?”
Uzi’s eyes flicked over to DeSantos, who shook his head no.
“I think it’s best if I don’t answer that.”
“That in and of itself is an answer. Is your colleague Hector DeSantos with you?”
“Yes.”
“That’s all I need to know. And I have to tell you that I’m not happy that—”
“Gideon, if you were anyone else, this conversation would never be happening. I will give you what I have. We’re on the same side here.”
“Are we?”
Vail nudged Uzi’s elbow. She whispered in his ear, “Your father.”
“I guess it’s my turn to ask you: is there something I need to know?”
“This is a game I do not want to play with you,” Aksel said.
“Fine. I know you’ve been looking for the missing codex pages. And the Jesus Scroll.”
There was silence before Aksel spoke. “Unfortunately, they’ve become chess pieces in a very dangerous game. And your government is on the wrong end of this one.”
“How so?”
“A conversation for another time. One that can only happen in person.”
“Fine. I’ll accept that. But I need an address for Kadir Abu Sahmoud.”
Aksel laughed.
Uzi pictured his firm but ample belly shuttering. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. Do you have a location?”
“Take me off speaker.” Uzi did, then listened intently for a moment. “Yeah, I got it … No, I’m not happy. We intend to apprehend or kill him … No, I get it … Be right there.” He hung up, then huddled with DeSantos and Vail. “He said they’re monitoring Sahmoud, tracking his movements. Watching to see who he’s meeting with. He feels this is more valuable at the moment. And he’s worried that if we were to kill him it’d only aggravate an already shitty situation. Everyone will think Israel was behind it and there’d be no way for him to prove otherwise. Unless we take credit, which is possible but not likely because officially this mission was scrubbed. President Nunn will state he hasn’t sanctioned any such operation and deny the United States had anything to do with it. And he’d be telling the truth.”
Zemro joined their cabal. “Aksel tell you anything?”
“Just that he couldn’t tell me anything. You?”
“I’ve got a couple friends looking into it. They knew of Madari but don’t have a file on him. I asked them to look into Fahad too. Just in case.”
“They’ll have stuff.” He told Zemro what Aksel had related to him back when Fahad was added to their OPSIG team.
“Maybe it’s like an iceberg. We see the tip but there’s more beneath the surface.”
“No doubt.” Uzi rubbed his face with a hand. “Aksel’s on his way over from the Antiquities Authority. We’re meeting him at the Ramban Synagogue. A few minutes away, back the way we came.”
“A synagogue?”
“It’s safe. We can talk freely.”
Uzi led the way, telling Vail and DeSantos that the congregation was founded in the 1200s after Jerusalem was destroyed by the Crusades. “It’s now one of the oldest active synagogues in the Old City.”
They arrived on Ha-Yehudim Street in the Jewish Quarter, a pedestrian square paved with cobblestones and planted with mature shade trees. The stone building they were looking for had a central dome and a plaque on the wall describing its history.