Crescent Dawn

“Can you smell the jasmine in the air?” she asked. “I’ve always loved the fragrance. It reminds me of when I was a child, and all the days were filled with happiness.”

“They will be again,” Dirk promised.

“I must be getting back,” she finally whispered, though her arms retained their lock around Dirk.

“I’ll be waiting for you,” he replied.

She suddenly remembered the pla

“We can have di

“May I come along?”

Sophie started to shake her head, then relented. “We are a bit shorthanded. It’s just Sam and me, so we could use some extra support. But no heroics this time.”

“A silent observer, that’s me. I promise,” he said, smiling.

They rose together and took a final look at the dry pools. Sophie felt a sudden hesitancy to leave, though she didn’t know why. She finally gathered Dirk’s hand and led him slowly away from the pools, fighting a swirl of emotions within her heart.

44

The Ottoman Star crept slowly into the Israeli Port of Haifa, the decrepit freighter relegated to a berth at the end of the quiet west terminal. With only a small quantity of remaining textiles to off-load, the Turkish crew could have easily emptied the ship’s holds in a few hours. But they were under strict orders to procrastinate unloading so that work would not be completed until late in the evening.

Presenting a pair of fake passports at the port’s customs office, Maria and one of the Janissaries then rented a car and made their way out of Haifa. Posing as a married couple on holiday, they could travel through most of the country with limited scrutiny. But in making their way to Jerusalem, they took no chances. Maria drove a circuitous route to avoid entering the West Bank and being subjected to additional security checkpoints, which might find the fa

Maria knew well that attempting to transport the HMX explosives into and through the country was another matter. Zakkar and his associates in the Mules could handle that risk, at a cost that was well worth the price. The Arab smuggler had carefully outlined to Maria how the explosives would be transported via truck, then on foot, even strapped to the bellies of a herd of sheep at one point, in order to reach the destination without being detected by the Israeli security forces.

But that was only half of the challenge. The Turkish woman had other equally important business to conduct in person. With the help of a tourist map, they entered the busy streets of Jerusalem, bypassing the Old City in making their way to one of the newer neighborhoods to the west. Locating the recently opened Waldorf Astoria Hotel, they parked their car on the street and walked to the next block south. Tucked into a row of trendy tourist shops, they found a tiny teahouse, with strings of beads shading the windows, and stepped inside.

At a corner table in the dimly lit café, Maria spotted a bearded man rise to his feet and smile in her direction, revealing a gold-plated front tooth. Maria approached him with her Janissary in tow.

“Al-Khatib?” she asked.

“At your service,” the Palestinian replied, bending toward her in a slight bow. “Won’t you join me?”

Maria nodded and sat down at the table with the Janissary beside her. Al-Khatib took a seat across from them and poured them each a cup of tea. Maria noticed that he had the sunbaked skin and callused hands of an old artifact plunderer, which was exactly what he was.

“Welcome to Jerusalem,” he said by way of a toast.

“Thank you,” Maria replied, gazing around the room to ensure there were no prying ears nearby.

“Have you succeeded with the task for which you were hired?” she asked in a low voice.

“Yes, with ease,” the Palestinian replied, smiling again. “The aqueduct was exactly where you indicated it would be. It is an amazing historical validation. May I ask where you obtained the research data?”

It was Maria’s turn to smile.

“As you know, the present wall around the Old City was constructed by Suleiman the Magnificent in the early fifteen hundreds. His engineers mapped the route in detail, incorporating the locations of existing obstructions. The maps, which we have acquired in Turkey, are replete with abandoned aqueducts and other features constructed back to the Age of Herod, which have since been lost or hidden.”

“A marvelous discovery, and one that I would love to examine some time,” al-Khatib said hungrily.

“I’m afraid I didn’t bring the documents with me on this trip,” she lied. “My family has an extensive collection of Ottoman artifacts, and the maps were part of a larger acquisition.” She neglected to mention that they had all been stolen from a museum in Ankara.

“Historical documents of prized value, I should think. May I ask the purpose of the excavation?”

Maria brushed aside the inquiry. “You were able to expand the opening around the aqueduct?” she countered.

“Yes, I have done as you requested. I quietly enlarged the opening, then burrowed a meter or two into the hillside. The entrance is properly concealed by scrub brush.”

“Excellent,” Maria replied, then reached into her pack and retrieved an envelope filled with Israeli banknotes. Al-Khatib’s eyes widened as she slid the fat envelope across the table.

“There is a bonus for your timely work,” she said.

“I am most grateful,” the Palestinian gushed, quickly stuffing the envelope into his pocket.

Maria finished her cup of tea, then said, “You will show us to the site now.”

Al-Khatib looked at his watch with dismay. “It will be dark shortly, but there is a bright moon tonight.”

Then he saw the cold, determined look in Maria’s eyes and quickly backpedaled.

“Of course, if that is what you wish,” he stammered. “Do you have a car?”

He paid the bill, then the trio made their way down the street to the rental. Following al-Khatib’s directions, Maria drove around the southern end of the Old City, then turned north into the Kidron Valley. The Palestinian directed her to the fringe of an ancient Muslim cemetery, where Maria concealed the car behind an adjacent stone warehouse that was crumbling at the seams.

Their shadows disappeared under the approaching twilight as the Janissary removed a pickax and a bag filled with electric lanterns from the rear of the car. He and Maria then followed the Palestinian as he hopped over a low stone wall and wound his way through the dusty cemetery. The grounds were all but deserted at the late hour, but the group kept to the remote western section, well away from a mosque in the center and a side road to the east. The Janissary did his best to conceal the ax, hiding the business end under his arm as he walked.

To the east of them rose the Mount of Olives, dominated by a large Jewish cemetery and several churches and gardens. Rising from a hillside to their immediate west stood the towering stone wall that surrounded the Old City. Just over the wall was the original Temple Mount, now occupied by the al-Haram ash-Sharif, or Noble Sanctuary. At the center of the holy grounds was the Dome of the Rock, a towering structure that housed the stone upon which Abraham had prepared to sacrifice his son. In Islamic tradition, that rock was also deemed the departure point for Muhammad’s visit to heaven during his Night Journey, earmarked by his footprint in the stone. Maria could just make out the top of the Muslim shrine’s large gold dome, the towering structure appearing maple brown in the fading light.

Al-Khatib reached the simple marker of a Muslim Emir who’d died in the sixteenth century and turned left. Stepping to the end of an irregular row of grave sites, he began climbing the rocky hillside that rose sharply toward the Old City. Maria fumbled for a flashlight in her pack but kept it turned off, stumbling over rocks and scrub, until reaching a slight plateau, where al-Khatib slowed.