She pressed the pistol against the head of the fallen man and pulled the trigger. Blood spattered her face, but she didn’t even flinch as she brought the pistol up. The last two men turned at the unexpected gunshot. Her bullets caught them in the face and dropped them both where they stood.
Davari swung around, dropping into a crouch. Both of them fired at the same time. Miriam held her ground, and for a moment Lourds thought she’d been hit.
Then Davari sprawled forward, head turning so Lourds could see the bullet hole squarely between his staring eyes.
Miriam ran to him, helping him to his feet. ‘You got the Book and the Scroll?’
‘Yeah.’ Lourds held them up, his left hand torn and bloody.
They stepped out into the street, and a black sedan shrieked to a halt in front of them. The doors opened, and men in dark suits and earpieces opened the back doors. Lourds and Miriam looked at each other.
Aaron Jacob, president of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, sat in the backseat. ‘We meet again, Professor Lourds. I’d get in if I were you.’
Pushing Miriam ahead of him, Lourds fell into the back seat and struggled to get his breath back. He looked at Miriam as she stripped off the burqa and hijab.
Jacob smiled at Lourds as the car got under way and held out his hands. ‘I’ll take the Book and Scroll now, please.’
Lourds sighed and handed over both items. ‘Mossad?’
Jacob smiled. ‘I know some people that are. Reputedly.’
‘I don’t suppose I’m going to get to read those items, am I?’
‘You didn’t look at them?’
‘I looked at them enough. No one’s going to be able to prove that Mohammad himself wrote those documents because we don’t have any existing examples of his handwriting, but the message was clear enough to spin the world out of control if it had fallen into the Ayatollah’s hands.’
‘Thank God that didn’t happen. You understand that it would be better if no one ever sees these documents again?’
Lourds nodded. ‘It’s what Lev would have wanted.’
Jacob smiled in relief. ‘I’m glad you see it that way.’ He clapped Lourds on the shoulder.
Lourds winced in pain at the friendly contact, then swiveled his gaze to Miriam, relieved that she wasn’t hurt. ‘I have never had a graduate assistant who helped take work away from me. Especially work that would have impacted the world.’
‘You’ve probably never had a graduate assistant who saved your life before. Especially not as many times as I have these past few days. Starting with that little episode in Namchee Bazaar.’
‘That was you?’
‘Yes.’
Lourds leaned forward to hug her. ‘Thank you.’
She surprised him by turning her face up to be kissed.
When they parted, Lourds looked at her. ‘Maybe after this is over we could meet for dinner?’
‘To renew the friendship?’
‘Whatever you want it to be.’
She looked at him. ‘But it’ll never be any more than what it is.’
Lourds shook his head. ‘I’m a good friend, Miriam, but I’m not good for much more. There’s too much work I want to do, too many things I want to see.’
She took his hand. ‘I understand. And good friends are a rare pleasure.’
‘I’ve always thought so.’
Epilogue
‘I appreciate you joining us today, Professor Lourds.’
Leaning back in his chair, Lourds took stock of the old man sitting on the other side of the rectangular table. ‘I wasn’t exactly given a choice. Your agents came to my hotel room and took me.’
‘I’m sure it wasn’t as dramatic as that.’
Lourds rubbed his bruised wrists. ‘Take my word for it. When I told them I wasn’t interested, they handcuffed me and took me into custody.’
‘I’ll have a word with them.’
‘I’m sure that will do all the good in the world.’
The old man grinned and laid his walking stick across his knees as he sat. ‘I’ll do my best.’
‘I don’t suppose it would do any good for me to call the US Embassy and protest.’
‘No. They already know you’re here.’
Lourds grew more irritated but curbed the feeling. ‘Did you bring me here to look at the Koran or the Scroll?’
The old man raised an eyebrow. ‘What Koran? What Scroll?’
Lourds didn’t even bother to reply.
‘I don’t mean to be facetious, Professor Lourds, but I do want to clarify some things.’
Letting out an angry breath, Lourds waited.
‘Under no circumstances will anyone be allowed to see that Koran and Scroll again — even if they did exist, which they most certainly do not.’
‘You can’t just shut those things away.’
‘Of course we can.’
‘Think of the history you’re hiding.’
The old man’s gaze turned wintry. ‘Professor Lourds, history has already taken care of itself. It’s the future we’re protecting now. And I won’t have anyone risking the balance in the world over a document that no one can conclusively prove was written by Mohammad. Even if it existed.’ He paused. ‘Especially not some sensationalism-seeking Harvard linguistics professor that has the libido of a three-balled tomcat. If we hear of such a professor making idle claims about a fictitious document at some later date, Jimmy Hoffa will be easier to find. Do I make myself clear?’
His throat suddenly bone-dry, Lourds nodded and squeaked out, ‘Perfectly.’
‘Then I’ll see to it that you’re returned to your hotel room.’ The old man got to his feet. ‘Enjoy the rest of your stay in Jerusalem, Professor Lourds.’
‘Sorry I haven’t been by sooner, old friend, but as you know, you left me quite a bit of work to do when you left this world.’ Hat in hand, Lourds stood at the foot of the recent grave and stared at the simple wooden marker that declared the final resting place of Lev Strauss.
A pile of stones, all deposited by visitors, lay atop the grave. There were a lot of them. Lev was missed by many people.
‘Those of us who know what you’ve done still talk about how you saved the world. I regret that no one’s willing to step forward and let everyone know, but even admitting what was at stake is probably enough to launch an attack from the Ayatollah.’ Lourds smiled. ‘As it turns out, there was an added benefit to having Alice in our camp. Klaus Von Volker left a journal behind that detailed his arms sales. Even as we speak, joint efforts by various intelligence-community strike forces — who shall remain unnamed, of course — are even now dismantling the Ayatollah’s stockpiles of nuclear weapons and shutting down Von Volker’s clients The message is clear.’
Lourds juggled the stone he held in his bandaged palm. ‘I don’t have much more to say, old friend, but I will think of you often. And always with respect and much love.’ Gently, he added his stone to the pile.
Alice stepped up beside Lourds and left a stone as well. Together, hand in hand, they walked back toward the waiting rental car.
‘So what are you going to do, Professor Lourds?’
Lourds shrugged. ‘The dean called to remind me I still have a job to do and that he expects me to get back to it — soon. I’ve got a new class of students waiting. A new book to write. Some more work to do on Scholar’s Rock Temple. A lot to do. And I’m still searching for whatever may remain of the Library of Alexandria.’