Shrouded In Silence

21





Michelle townsend walked up the path to their offices with her arms filled with books while her husband sauntered along behind her. An October morning in Rome always felt exhilarating, and she walked at a brisk clip.

"You trying to set a new record for the sprint," Jack asked.

"How can I answer a tortoise with the energy of a snail?" Michelle quipped.

Jack reached over and pinched her on the bottom. "That'll teach you to be smart with your husband."

Michelle giggled. "Maybe I should upgrade you a tad from a turtle status, but only a tad."

"Definitely." He shut the door behind them.

"Well, my, my," Dov Sharon said. "Here they are. The love birds from Texas, the Bobbsey Twins, Mr. He and She. At it again."

Jack set his briefcase down on the desk. "You have a way of getting here before the sun comes up, Dov. Seems to put you into gear."

"It's a little hard to dance all night when you walk up and down the stone stairs in the Vatican's hidden basement," Dov answered sarcastically. "Forces one to go to bed early. That will definitely get you up with the dawn."

"Let's sit in the conference room and discuss where we are this morning," Jack suggested.

"I think everyone needs an update."

Michelle watched Dov shuffle some papers together. Obviously, Jack didn't agree with her doubts about him. She'd have to admit he'd done an amazing job at the Vatican Library, but her skepticism lingered. If she was totally wrong, then nothing was harmed. On the other hand, if she were right and Dov was mixed up in the dark side, her concern would be significant. She simply couldn't dismiss her hesitation.

She carried her books into the conference room and set them on the old table. Jack opened his briefcase and pulled out a file. Last of all, Dov shuffled in and slowly slid into the chair at the end of the table.

"Let's review what we've found to date," Jack started the session. "What about the project to find the ending to Mark's Gospel. That's the main objective we're pursuing. Any progress on that front?"

Dov shook his head. "Not to date. I've wandered around down there in that dungeon of a library on the bottom floor, but all I've picked up is insignificant. The most important clue I've stumbled across is that a trail points toward a Laterani family. Apparently they were important in the first century and had a great deal to do with building the first church facility in Rome. Actually, the Vatican wasn't the site of the first edifice. San Giovanni in Laterano, or St. John of Lateran, is the most ancient church in Rome. I don't know where this path is going, but it's a good lead for us right now."

"I haven't found anything in the research that I've done on the writings of Clement of Rome at the end of the first century and Ignatius of Antioch at the start of the second century," Jack said. I've also studied Hermas of Rome in the same period. I don't find evidence that any of them dealt with the problem of the ending of Mark's Gospel. I'm still looking though." He turned to Michelle. "What's on your plate, kid?"

"The most important matter that I have to report is that I'm extremely happy with the work Guido Valentino has done. The man is amazing. I've never met anyone with a grasp of Roman history like he has. We have indeed found an important friend."

"You're right about that," Dov said. "Guido's a good scholar. He's going to be important for the future."

"Dov, what have you come up with in your quest for The Prologue of James?"

The telephone rang.

"I'll get it." Michelle jumped up and went back to the other room to answer the phone on her desk.

Dov rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "It hasn't been easy," he began more seriously than usual. "I've talked with Father Donnello at great length and only our friendship has helped me get information. He gets edgy when we start talking about The Prologue, but I've made a breakthrough. I've waited to tell you the extraordinary news I have because it must be kept in the highest confidence. My discovery is for your ears only."

"Really?" Jack smiled. "Good job, Dov. I'm all ears. Do you have any clues about why they are hiding the parchment so tenaciously?"

Dov leaned closer and cupped his hand over his mouth, speaking more in a whisper than in his usual voice. "The document's existence destroys the idea that James and the other children were cousins of Jesus. If the document is true, it verifies they were all siblings. Right off the bat that's a blow to Roman Catholic doctrine. However, I'm getting the suggestion that some of what James wrote reconstructs the picture of Jesus that the Roman Church currently holds. I'm not sure what the document asserts, but it seems to raise entirely new issues."

"What do you think they might be?" Jack asked.

"Hard to say," Dov answered. "But put yourself in the position that James must have been in. No matter how you stack up the debate over cousins or brothers, James grew up with Jesus and must have watched his brother become an entirely different person than they would have expected. Consider the options. Did he consider Jesus a fanatic? a genius? deluded? maybe, just plain nuts? the long-expected messiah? What did he think?"

"We don't want to buy an idea that is blasphemy," Jack said. "We've got a great deal at stake here, too. Being a Jew, you're in a slightly different position, Dov."

"True, but it doesn't change the fact that there's something in that document that profoundly troubles the Roman Catholic Church. That's why they've kept it concealed under lock and key. I now know where it is hidden."

Jack's mouth dropped. "You're kidding me!"

"Nope. Father Donnello leveled with me."

Michelle came briskly back into the room. "No big deal on the phone. I was going to tell you that I've been trying to see what's behind Teaching of the Twelve Apostles that dates from A.D. 130 to 160. and trying to find any clues hidden there," Michelle said. "No luck so far, but I have one thing I want to show you." She turned to her pile of books. "Oh, gosh! I left it in my briefcase in the car. I'll run out and get it." She stood up. "I'll be right back."

Hurrying through the kitchen and out the back door, Michelle rushed to their car parked in the reserved space. Her briefcase should be in the back seat. Picking up the armload of books had distracted her, but then again, she couldn't have carried everything at once. Halfway down the path, she wondered if she put the briefcase in the car or might have left it at home. Could be either.

Her body suddenly left the ground followed by a roar engulfing her with a terrifying boom that shook every bone in her body. When she hit the grass, Michelle bounced, catching a glimpse of a piece of wooden siding flying passed followed by a shower of broken glass. She came up on her hands and knees but a hunk of something dark careened toward her face. Michelle tried to block it, but felt it catching the top of her head and sending her flying backward. Everything blanked out.



Voices seemed to be drifting in from somewhere. She tried to open her eyes but found it difficult to focus. Noise increased, and she heard men running somewhere out there in front of her. No matter how hard she pushed, it seemed impossible to get off the ground.

"There's a person over here!" A man yelled in Italian. "Over here in the grass."

Michelle kept blinking, and shapes became more defined. Wherever she looked, splintered pieces of boards were scattered on the yard. Only then did she look at their offices. She looked again. Pieces of the roof were gone and the walls at the kitchen entrance had cratered inward. Entire sections of the wall were ripped away. It looked like a volcano had erupted through the floor. Michelle kept blinking, unable to grasp what she was seeing.

"Here she is!" a familiar voice yelled. "My God! Get a stretcher over here!"

Father Donald Blake leaped over the broken pieces of wood on the ground, rushing toward her. The heavyset priest appeared to be flying through the air. She still couldn't grasp what he was about.

Father Blake dropped on his knees beside her. "Oh, you poor dear. How badly are you hurt?"

"I-I don't know," Michelle mumbled. "W-what's happened?"

"You're bleeding from the top of your head," Blake said. "We've got to get you in an ambulance."

Michelle got a tight grip on his coat sleeve. "Tell me what's happened."

"An explosion went off under your offices," Father Blake said. "Apparently, you weren't inside."

"Inside?" Michelle mumbled slowly. "Heaven help us! Jack was in there."

"You're sure?" Father Blake pressed.

"Yes, and our assistant Dov Sharon. Both men were . . ."

Father Blake stood up. "There are two more inside," he shouted at the top of his voice. "Somebody get in there and see where they are! Get me a stretcher over here."

"J-Jack was in there," Michelle mumbled, finding it difficult to talk. "You've got to find him." She pulled frantically on the priest's arm. "Understand? We've got to get him out."

"We will. Don't worry. We will."

Oh, my poor husband," Michelle groaned. "Lord help him. "Everything around her began to shift and swirl. Michelle felt nauseated and her stomach wrenched. A white glaze began descending over the pile of debris and the men running around the smashed house. The whiteness increased, and she couldn't sit up any longer. Grass pressed against her face and suddenly everything disappeared.