Inside, its columns and vaulted ceilings reminded Vail of the larger barrel rooms that she had seen in the Napa Valley — specifically the one in the castle winery where Vail had pursued the Crush Killer.
Worn wood pews filled the small sanctuary. Tablets with Hebrew writing sat at the front, above one of the columns. To Vail it looked like a representation of the Ten Commandments.
The door swung open and Gideon Aksel entered. Vail had never met the man, but Uzi’s reaction gave away his identity. They exchanged nods — no hand shaking and no small talk. It was clear that Zemro and Aksel knew each other.
“Raph,” Uzi said, “would you watch the front door, make sure no one approaches who shouldn’t?”
Zemro nodded, then walked off.
Aksel unbuttoned his suit coat. “You sure you want to talk with … your friends here? I’m not sure this is a conversation for other ears.”
“I trust them all with my life.”
Aksel pursed his lips and gave a tight nod. “As it should be.”
“What did you want to tell me?”
Aksel sighed. “We have conflicting missions, Uzi. This is a problem.”
Uzi folded his arms across his chest. “We already discussed Sahmoud and—”
“That’s not what I’m talking about. The security services are working to secure the codex pages and the scroll to prevent them from being used against us.”
“Against — what are you talking about?”
“I suspect you already know the documents are in the hands of al Humat. Or its agents.”
Uzi nodded.
“If you are successful in retrieving them, it’ll be no different from the terrorists having them.”
Uzi dropped his hands to his sides. “How can you say that?”
“It’s no secret President Nunn and the prime minister don’t like each other. There’s been tension since Nunn was elected. He’s made his feelings very clear.”
“Not true,” DeSantos said. “The two of them may not like each other, but the administration has done things behind the scenes that’ve supported Israel’s interests. Like helping to fund the last stages of Iron Dome’s development.”
The left corner of Aksel’s mouth lifted. “And you think that was for our benefit? Come on, Mr. DeSantos. You’re a smart guy. Why do you think the US loaned Israel the last two hundred million dollars to finish development?”
DeSantos thought a second then titled his chin back. “Because we get to share the technology.”
“Remember your Star Wars missile defense system? It never worked as promised. The Patriot system? Marginal at best. But the technology behind Iron Dome showed promise even in its earlier, flawed developmental state. It’s a smart system that tracks a missile’s trajectory and determines if it’s worth shooting down — and then calculates the exact spot in its trajectory it should intercept it so the missile doesn’t go down in a populated area. And it does it all in the blink of an eye. After Iron Dome proved its worth by shooting down over a thousand rockets Hamas shot at us from Gaza, the US had a potent antimissile system as a defensive measure — and deterrent — to thug countries like Russia and North Korea.”
“So what does this have to do with the documents?” Vail asked.
“We’ve heard that there are factions in your government working to secure them so they can be used as leverage in negotiations. Your president wants a peace deal. He wants to do what no other US president has been able to do: broker a comprehensive, final two-state solution.”
Uzi shook his head. “I don’t know, Gideon.”
“Indeed, my friend. There are a lot of things you don’t know. Your secretary of state has worked against us in several key negotiating sessions the past few weeks. This is not how an ally behaves. But it is the way you leverage an enemy to do things they don’t want to do. You twist their arm using whatever means you have at your disposal, no matter what the fallout.”
DeSantos squinted. “Do you really believe your government would agree to impossible concessions just to secure the Aleppo Codex and Jesus Scroll?”
Aksel looked away. “This is not a cold calculus, Mr. DeSantos. It’s not A plus B equals C. This is an emotional question, a religious issue, one that involves faith. And truths. The reality is that the government is a coalition of diverse agendas, needs, constituents. Add religion to the mix and it’s an unwieldy group.”
“And a significant part of that group,” Uzi said, “is ultra-Orthodox.”
“Meaning what?” Vail asked. “I don’t know a thing about Israeli politics.”
“It’s a democracy, you know that much. But instead of two parties, we have thirty-eight, thirteen who currently hold seats in the coalition. You know how hard it is to get Democrats and Republicans to work together? Try adding eleven more. Point is, the ultra-Orthodox are an important voting bloc for the prime minister. Without them his government crumbles. And the ultra-Orthodox desperately want those ancient documents — especially the codex. In fact, these documents may be the only thing that could make them give up their claims to Judea and Samaria. Don’t underestimate their importance.”
“Judea and Samaria?” Vail asked.
“The part of Israel now called the West Bank,” Uzi said. “It was known as Judea and Samaria for thousands of years. Jordan coined the phrase ‘West Bank’ sixty-five years ago.”
Aksel buttoned his coat. “Remember this, Mr. DeSantos, Agent Vail. This conflict is not about giving the Palestinians land for their own country. They want all the land, all of Israel. This two-state solution is a political invention, an attempt to compromise, to appease the Palestinians. Because that’s what politicians and negotiators and mediators do. But the Palestinians can’t be appeased. Even if they’re given the West Bank, they will not stop until they have it all. Make no mistake. This is about Israel’s survival.” He pointed at Uzi. “You know I’m right. And that’s why any negotiations — however they’re resolved — have to be done without a gun to our head. We are going to find those documents.”
There was a knock on the door to the sanctuary.
“Coming!” Aksel said, then turned to leave. “I will let you know if I find anything about Amer Madari. In the meantime, please don’t cause any trouble in my country. Better yet, go home and get out of our way. Catch the next flight out. I believe that’s this evening at 6:00 PM.”
63
Uzi waited until the door clicked shut before pulling out his satphone and moving closer to the window. “You don’t mind if I disregard Gideon’s recommended travel arrangements, do you?”
“Who are you calling?” DeSantos asked.
“An old friend who owes me. Big. Tell Raph — no one comes in.”
As DeSantos walked off, Uzi brought the handset to his face. “Reuben, it’s Uzi. I need an address.” He listened a few seconds, then said, “Aksel can’t know. … I’m serious … Yes, I’m on a satphone. It’s fairly secure. … Kadir Abu Sahmoud.” Uzi held the phone away from his ear, waited a second for Reuben to stop yelling, then said, “I need this. And now you know why Aksel can’t know. … Make it look like it wasn’t you, like it came from the outside … Fine, leave an identifier pointing back to me. I’ll take the heat … Yeah. It’s that important.”
Uzi hung up, then faced Vail and DeSantos, who had returned. “Reuben was knifed by an al Humat operative in the West Bank. His phone had been destroyed but I figured out a way of tracking him through his vehicle. Everyone else had given up but I found him, dumped in a field, left for dead.” Uzi took a deep breath. “Like I said, he owes me. He’s going to give us Sahmoud’s address. But they’ve got an ongoing op and he doesn’t want to ruin it. Same thing Gideon told me.”