Rabbi Gabrielle Ignites a Tempest Read Free Page B

to
ignore his scruples and persevere.
    He pressured the parchment still harder,
nudging it first in one direction then another until finally it
eased higher. Slowly, the precious scroll moved upward some fifteen
centimeters to an expanse in the crevice. In that position,
extraction was possible, though it required another full
minute.
    Smaller than he had originally thought, the
scroll was darker than the other fragments. A quick scan told him
it was not in Hebrew or the lingua-franca of the time, Aramaic, but
in the Greek language of the educated aristocracy. Finding it too
large for one of his Ziploc bags, he improvised by wrapping it in
the cloth he had brought to clean his glasses. Far from a high-tech
solution, but it would have to do.
    Crawling backward to the rendezvous junction,
Tim wondered why, after being told about these fragments, Father
Benoit had not wanted to assist in their collection. He asked
himself if perhaps the priest had discovered artifacts still more
valuable, perhaps something from the unopened ossuary? Or another
scroll?
    It was sixteen minutes past the deadline when
Tim arrived at the rendezvous juncture, not surprised to find
himself alone. He scrambled still faster on his knees, dragging his
backpack behind him on a tethered line. The umbilical cord had a
tendency to tangle, forcing him to stop frequently to free it.
    When Tim finally caught up with Benoit, just
shy of the cave's entrance, the Dominican father was bowed on his
knees, halted by a choking cough. At first, Tim thought his lungs
had succumbed to the ubiquitous dust. But a moment later, this
suspicion was abandoned in favor of a more palpable cause. It was
not dust that stopped Benoit. The tight air was impregnated with
thick a smoke, snaking through earthen conduits from outside.
    Benoit hacked away as he spoke through a
cloth protecting his nose and mouth. "I... I was afraid of
something like... this."
    "What's burning?" Tim asked, now joined with
him in the coughing.
    "Oil... a Bedouin trick. Why enter... a
cave... when you can light a fire at the entrance and smoke us
out?"
    Tim crouched alongside Benoit and breathed
through his sleeve. "The treasures here will be damaged
irreparably. How can civilized people do this?"
    Benoit snapped in a voice conveying his
authority on the local Arab culture, "What's here is...
Judeo-Christian history, not… Bedouin history. These people live
only for today and tomorrow. They have no interest in their own past; why should they give a shit
about ours ?"
    Tim felt his lungs woefully short of air as
he sputtered, "Let's signal the Israeli drone."
    "Let's not. Jews would love to crucify me on
the Via Dolorosa. And humiliate the Holy Father in Rome."
    "You didn't wait for me back there," Tim
said, revealing an anger that had disturbed him since finding the
priest had already fled without him.
    "If you had... kept to the schedule, we would
have made it," Benoit answered. "This is… your mess, not mine."
    "A few minutes wouldn't have made any
difference. I've got fantastic fragments."
    Benoit's coughing increased, breaking up his
words, "Time… to choose whether we want to get barbequed here... or
shot outside."
Tim considered Benoit's prospects, but somehow they
didn't seem to cover all the alternatives. He stretched himself
prone along the ground, staying as low as possible under smoke
wafting overhead. Despite hacking, he managed to keep his words
together. "…The Bedouin guard escaped through a hole somewhere.
We... must find it."
    Benoit said nothing while hauling himself to
his knees.
    Tim continued, "We didn't notice the vent
before... so it must have been in one of the conduits… over to the
left. Smoke will... exit through it like a chimney. Let's follow
the current above us."
    Benoit seemed to agree, for he led in the
direction Tim suggested. Their path weaved in a semi-circle until
the tunnel forked into two channels. The men rolled on their backs
to observe how smoke seemed to move