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“Indira Rajiv?”

“Right,” said Natasha. “Didn’t Jon want you to enlist her help?”

“I called her — several times. I never heard back.”

“So call her again.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know,” said Natasha. “For satellite coverage. An extraction team. Advice. Something. Anything. She helped you before. I’m sure she’d help you again, especially if she knew you and Jon were in danger.”

Erin considered that for a moment. Maybe Natasha was right. They were flying solo and it wasn’t going well. If there was anyone she could trust, she figured it was Rajiv. And even if she couldn’t help them directly, perhaps Rajiv could point them to someone who could help.

Erin powered up the satellite phone and called Rajiv’s cell phone. There was no answer. She tried the home number but again got voice mail. She closed her eyes and tried to think. Rajiv had a satellite phone as well, but what was the number? Finally it came to her and she dialed.

“Hi, this is Indira. I’m sorry I can’t take your call right now. But please leave a message and I’ll get right back to you.”

Her anxiety about Jon rising quickly, Erin decided to leave a message. It was a risk, to be sure, but for the moment she couldn’t think of what else to do.

“Indira, it’s me, Erin. I really need your help. We’re in the West Bank, near Nablus. Jon’s missing. He went into a cave on Mount Ebal and never came back. Call me back as soon as you can. Please. It’s urgent.” Then she gave Rajiv their satphone number and hung up.

“No luck?” asked Natasha.

“No,” said Erin. She donned her gear and prepared to head into the cave.

Natasha stepped in front of her, blocking the way. “I can’t let you go in there. You’ll just hurt yourself. Isn’t there anyone else you can call?”

“No,” said Erin. “I’m sorry. There just isn’t. Now I’m going in. I’ll call you as soon as I find him, and we’ll figure out what to do then.” She started forward again.

Natasha didn’t move. “You think something’s really happened to him?”

“Why else would he be taking so long?”

“Maybe he found something.”

“Then he’d call in.”

“Maybe he’s out of range. Look, if something has happened to him — and believe me, I hope to God that nothing has — but if it has, you’re not going to be able to get him out of there alone. Even together we couldn’t do it. We need more bodies, and we’re going to need a helicopter.”

Erin thought about that. “What about yours?” she asked.

“Not possible.”

“Why not?”

“Well, first of all, it’s not mine,” said Natasha. “Second, there’s no way to get it out of Jerusalem with all the police and border patrol out looking for us. How about you? Know anyone else with a helicopter?”

“Someone who won’t turn us in?”

“Narrows it down, doesn’t it?” asked Natasha.

“A bit, yeah,” said Erin. She thought a moment. “Actually,” she said, “there is somebody.”

“Who?”

“Dmitri Galishnikov.”

Natasha raised her eyebrows. “Miriam’s boss?”

Erin nodded.

“The founder and CEO of Medexco — the richest man in Israel?”

“That’s him,” said Erin. “He’s got a fleet of choppers. Better yet, he’s got a license to fly all of them. When he was younger — much younger, before he struck oil — he used to run commando missions for the IDF.”

“Really?” asked Natasha. “I had no idea.”

Erin pulled out the phone again and dialed.

“It’s ringing,” she said a moment later. “Hello, Mr. Galishnikov? It’s Erin Bennett. I am so, so sorry to wake you, but I’m afraid Jon and I very much need your help.”

* * *

Under the fourth rock pile, Bennett hit pay dirt.

Buried in the center of the stones was a large clay pot, not unlike the ones he had seen in the Shrine of the Book. His hands began to tremble with excitement. He carefully tipped the pot and shined his headlamp inside. And there, waiting, undisturbed for the past two thousand years, was yet another scroll.

* * *

Natasha was not about to let Erin go into the tunnel alone.

But they were both becoming more and more concerned. Natasha was almost to the point of going in herself to look for Bennett when there came a shout from the bottom of the cave shaft.

A few minutes later, Jon’s filthy face appeared.

“Thank God you’re okay,” Erin exclaimed, giving her husband a huge embrace. “You had me freaking out up here.”

“I’m sorry — I’m okay, really. I’m fine,” he promised, giving her a long and tender kiss.

“What happened?” she asked, coming up for air. “What took you so long?”

“It’s a long story,” said Bennett.

He pulled off his backpack and unzipped it. Then he pulled out a blanket and slowly, carefully unwrapped it. And there, in its center, was the scroll.

“No treasure in there,” Bennett said as he handed Natasha their latest clue, “but it wasn’t a complete waste of time. At least I come bearing gifts.”

But there was no time to examine the scroll. All three lifted their heads as a distant rumble, almost like thunder, grew nearer and intensified.

“What is that?” Bennett asked.

“Probably our ride,” said Erin, glancing at her watch. “Right on time.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Natasha and I were getting worried about you,” she said. “So I decided to call in some backup.”

“Erin, you didn’t,” Bennett said, still looking around for the source of the growing noise. “Tell me you didn’t call Doron.”

“I didn’t call Doron.”

“Erin… ”

“I didn’t call Doron, Jon,” she insisted. “Ye of little faith!”

Erin and Natasha both stood and together helped the exhausted Bennett to his feet as a Bell 430 executive helicopter began descending a few yards away. Bennett peered into the cockpit just as the morning sun began to peek over the eastern mountains, only to find a familiar face at the controls.

“You called Dmitri?” he yelled over the roar of the rotors.

“I couldn’t think of anyone else,” Erin shouted back.

“You’re amazing!”

“Thanks. Now let’s go, before someone figures out what we’re doing up here.”

* * *

Mariano’s team stared in shock.

They watched in stunned silence as the jet helicopter touched down halfway up the western face of Mount Ebal. They thought they had prepared for every eventuality. But they hadn’t prepared for this.

“What do we do?” one of the men radioed to his team leader.

“Take them out. I repeat, take them out.”

* * *

The back door of the chopper swung open.

There were three large men in the back — security types, Erin figured, probably working for Medexco — and they eagerly helped Bennett and the women scramble aboard with all of their gear, then quickly closed the door behind them.

“Welcome to Air Jerusalem,” Galishnikov said over the intercom as the chopper began to gain altitude. “It is an honor to have you aboard this morning. Please buckle your seat belts and make yourselves comfortable. We’ll be flying today at—”

A gunshot suddenly shattered the side window. Two more shots ripped into the fuselage. Natasha was screaming. Blood covered her face. Another shot shattered the copilot’s window, though fortunately there was no one in that seat.

Bennett instinctively pushed Erin and Natasha to the floor and covered their bodies with his own.

One of the men near Bennett smashed out one of the back windows with the butt of a rifle and began returning fire. A moment later, another did as well.