THE LAST ARK

CHAPTER 26: PEACE, PEACE

Israeli Supreme Court, Tel Aviv T h ree Days Before Temple Ceremony

With his face down and turned away from the security cameras mounted almost everywhere outside the Israeli Knesset, Derek hides behind WITNESS lenses, a COVID mask, a wig, and a wide rim hat. It should be enough from a distance. “I don’t know who we’re meeting, but I suggest we meet someplace else,” he says. “We’re here to meet Yehuda Hiam, an Orthodox rabbi member of the Knesset,” Matan explains. “We’re old friends. I trust him, and he’s a leading member of the Temple Institute.” T h e name sounds familiar. Th ey never met, and Yehuda would only know him by the alias fl apjack. He and SLVIA once helped a man by that name deal with an extortion threat linked to a deep fake video. “You know, guys, you go ahead,” Derek says. “Like I said, this is an Israeli issue. You can fi ll me in later.” While he’s genuinely interested in the mysteries surrounding the ark, he has no interest in spending time in an Israeli prison. He would have left by now except for the possible SLVIA code back at the university. “Nonsense,” dismisses Loir. “You and Mordechai found the relic. Don’t worry, Yehuda will know how to walk the line between the secular Zionist and the Sanhedrin.” “OK, let me put it this way,” Derek says, changing tactics. “You guys expect to march into one of the most secure buildings on the planet during heated peace negotiations. Then you plan to find the office of a controversial leader to talk about what could be the most coveted relic of all time.” Derek lays out his view with a shrug. “Maybe people in Israel are more trusting, but back home, this would be a good time to take a friendly walk in the park.” Loir and Matan look at each other with a shared epiphany while Mordechai grins. Matan pulls out his cell phone. “Hello, Yehuda? Change of plans. Meet us in the parking lot, I’ll explain. Yes, yes, I promise you will thank me.” T hat was close. Many of the most powerful Zionist leaders in Israel today are Freemasons, including eight of the last thirteen prime ministers, and a share of the Knesset. Much of the Templar and Freemason lore has roots in ancient mystic Jewish Kabbalism. The Concilium even founded modern Israel. The Balfour Declaration was written at the end of World War I by Lord Arthur Balfour, the UK Foreign Secretary of Lord Rothschild, the Praeceptor of his day. Balfour called for establishing a national homeland for the Jewish people in Palestine, at the time, a neglected Ottoman region. It set the stage for a UN vote in 1948 to create the modern nation of Israel, a decision signed in blood ever since. “Yehuda, old friend, thank you for indulging me.” He hears Matan greet behind him. Derek turns, conscious not to lift his face to see the stout rabbi with a long beard and wire-rim glasses, dressed in black with a starched white shirt. The same man he helped secretly. To bring up that episode would complicate the situation and compromise his identity. “What could be so important that you drag me away from my office with so much going on,” the old rabbi complains. “We should take a walk. There are too many cameras,” Derek says, turning toward a set of trees, forcing the others to follow. “And who are you?” questions the intense rabbi, pulling up swiftly to his left. “A rude American, who should apologize,” Matan scolds, pulling up on the right. “I am sorry, rabbi, I don’t mean to be rude, but we have a reason for being overly cautious, even in Israel,” he says. “My name is Derek Taylor. I was at St. George when a sniper murdered the abbot. We found something you should see. Something important to Israel.” Derek hands over his phone with images of the wooden panel. He used a computer program to enhance the letters to make them easier to read. With a suspicious grunt, Yehuda snatches the phone. A moment later, his eyes widen as he expands the image. He remains silent until he finishes the entire inscription. With a heavy sigh, he hands back the phone, then lifts his eyes to stare into Derek’s eyes, searching for something. “It’s genuine, Yehuda,” Matan says. “The wood carbon dates between 480 and 530 CE.” Yehuda and Matan exchange a gaze and silently confirming nod. A remarkable truth based on a lifelong trust between friends. “Come this way. I know a private place without cameras,” Yehuda commands, spinning in a new direction with a renewed vigor in his step. After walking without talking for a few blocks, they enter an archeological dig site with no activity. A guard who knows the rabbi lets the entire group inside with little more than a pleasant greeting. Once they reach a far corner of the site out of earshot, the rabbi pivots. “Where did you find this panel?” he questions, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “In the prophet Elijah’s cave at the monastery of St. George,” replies Mordechai. “We believe Father Sabas placed it there in 522.” “I don’t understand,” the rabbi shakes his head. “He wrote the panel in ancient Hebrew, and it speaks clearly of the ark.” “I found letters in the Vatican Archives sent by Abbot Sabas to Pope John I describing a copper scroll found under the large rocks north of Qumran. Sabas copied the text before he reburied the scroll,” Derek explains. “You just read the second copper scroll written by Jeremiah,” Matan clarifies. T he old rabbi stumbles backward until he sits on an ancient stone wall under excavation. “Now, Yehuda, we know the ark waits for Moshiach, but yet, together with the first copper scroll locations in Qumran, we now have both scrolls, and a starting point,” Loir explains, excitement oozing from his pores. “With the peace negotiations in progress, we came to seek your counsel. Israel must insist on a single-state solution and a third temple. Nothing else matters.” Derek doesn’t have a voice, but it seems as if the lives of the Palestinians matter. Loir’s comment makes Derek wonder if the Israeli change in strategy to a single-state solution and the confirmation of copper scroll locations in Qumran align to the same time frame. Yehuda searches the eyes of each man. “Have you spoken to the Sanhedrin?” Everyone shakes their head no. “Then I must go immediately. The peace deal is in jeopardy. We must renew our efforts,” Yehuda insists. T he old rabbi pauses. “Last year, a young man arose among the chief rabbis, named Jiziahu deb David, or Zedekiah, son of David, and gained the admiration of many. There are more than a few on the Sanhedrin who believe Jiziahu could be Moshiach. In fact, the Sanhedrin crowned him king of Jerusalem on April 4, 2021, over Passover,” he explains. “For some, it fulfilled prophecies of Rabbi Madhuri and Shoshoni that Moshiach would reveal himself on Passover.” “Wow, quite a claim?” Derek says. Yehuda shrugs his shoulders as if he’s not a convert. “He was born Solomon Judah and changed his name, which makes me wonder. He also claims to be a direct descdendant of David, which would be impossible to prove or disprove without lineage. There is a heresy that he comes from a mix of Jewish and Muslim heritage.” “Yes, Yehuda, but we also know that a year before Moshiach would be a fallow year for agriculture, just like 2021,” Loir points out. “And ben David has an uncanny understanding of the Torah. Now could be the time.” Yehuda shakes his head in uncertainty. “Perhaps, but I need those images to talk to the Sanhedrin. Under the current deal, the Saudi king will lead the WAQF and has agreed to a Jewish tabernacle, but it cannot disturb the Noble Sanctuary. Israel must grant full citizen rights and representation to Palestinians, as well as invest heavily in the West Bank and Gaza.” “The deal will enrage the Palestinians,” Matan states. “And if the tabernacle doesn’t replace the Dome of the Rock, it will enrage many Jews.” Derek thinks of the famous quote, They will cry peace, peace, but there will be no peace. “Israel has a mortal enemy prepared to strike, a peace deal for a temple and the ark, and a man believed to be the Moshiach by the Jews,” Mordechai summarizes the scenario. “Just sayin’, what are the odds?” “Yes, what are the odds,” Yehuda looks Loir in the eye and hesitates. “Either way, if the Knesset learns of the ark, they will use it for political theater. We must be careful.” In Derek’s mind, if the Knesset learns of the ark, then the Concilium will also learn, which raises the question of why SLVIA pointed to Sabas and the Sefer HaBahir. Yehuda turns to gaze at Derek for a long moment. “And you, you must leave Israel at once. I remember your name. You’re the American hacker that Mossad and the ICC seek.” Derek’s heart freezes for an instant, feeling exposed. Others turn to stare at him with narrow, angry eyes and slack jaws, probably feeling betrayed. The news only confirms that a killer works with Mossad to track him. “I can’t leave Israel yet; I promised to help Matan,” he protests. “Besides, a powerful group behind the Freemason Zionists will go after the ark. You need my help.” Derek doesn’t deny that he’s a wanted hacker. Lying to them at this point would only make matters worse. Matan, Loir, and Mordechai stare at him for a better explanation. “OK, I’m an ex-NSA contractor who knows far too many international secrets for my own good. I have no desire for the ark or trouble. As soon as I help Matan, I plan to leave the country,” he explains. After a long, awkward silence, Yehuda nods his head. “I don’t trust the ICC.” T hat makes sense, as the ICC has threatened to try Israel for war crimes. Derek also takes the statement to mean Yehuda doesn’t trust Derek either. Matan narrows his eyes in lingering suspicion while Mordechai appraises him with an expression he can’t read but that could be disappointment. After a moment of silence, Loir takes a deep breath. “At least that explains your ridiculous disguises.” “How do you know about the Tredecim?” Yehuda questions, changing the subject. “Why do you think they will want the ark?” Yehuda used the term Tredecim, which means he’s aware of the Bilderberg influence over Israeli politics. Derek leverages that mistrust. “My deep knowledge of the Concilium Tredecim is why the ICC wants me,” Derek replies, only guessing the ICC’s motive and hoping Yehuda will empathize. “Regarding proof that the Tredecim will go after the ark, I believe the answer may be in the third story of the private library of that building right over there.” Derek points toward the Israeli Supreme Court where a pyramid with an all-seeing-eye rises above the roofline, set back from the Egyptian obelisk in the garden. Yehuda nods with a twinkle in his eye. “Only ex-judges can access the library third floor of the Israeli Supreme Court. What do you expect to find in a library you’ve never seen?” “Correction, they restrict the third level to ex-judges, thirty-three-degree Freemasons, and grand masters,” Derek replies. “I expect to find the original uncut version of the book that the leader of the first crusade, Godefroi de Bouillon, came to Jerusalem to find.” Derek leans closer to lower his voice. “The original uncut Sefer HaBahir, the sacred Kabballah text embraced by the Knights Templar, and many Jews. For over a thousand years, the Order has sought the ark because of the power discussed within the uncut version of that book.” Yehuda studies Derek’s eyes for what seems like an eternity. “Interesting that you know so much about a secret group that officially doesn’t exist and a book version that no one has ever seen.” Yehuda pulls away from his burning gaze with a shrug. “Eh, too bad none of us are an ex-judge.” When Derek first scanned the uncut version of the Sefer HaBahir, he discounted it as ancient superstition and mysticism. He forgot about it until the cryptic message came from SLVIA to Olavo. Truth be told, Derek plays a hunch. OK, he’s playing hunches like a house of cards and being wrong on any of them will crumble the entire theory. As Yehuda said, they need a thirty three-degree Freemason, or an ex-judge, to learn the truth. “Yeah, too bad.”