The Sacred Cipher (26 page)

Johnson nodded. “Right. Hezekiah’s Tunnel carried the water from the Gihon Spring
to the Pool of Siloam,” said Johnson. “Since the Gihon Spring was inside the city
walls, Jerusalem’s water source was protected in the time of siege.”

“Ah, that’s what we were taught,” said Larsen, turning away from the map and resting
his hands on a nearby chair, “but now it appears that what we were taught was completely
wrong.

“For years, the most educated and accepted theory of Jerusalem’s walls was that they
could only be built at the top of the escarpment, both because of engineering difficulties
and also because any lower position would have left the city within range of enemy
archers standing on the other side of the Kidron Valley. So it was theorized Hezekiah’s
Tunnel was constructed to bring freshwater from the Gihon Spring to the Pool of Siloam,
inside the walls.

“But Reich and Stammers have unearthed a fourteen-foot-wide wall that predated Hezekiah,
that runs along the base of the escarpment, and completely encloses the Gihon Spring.
The remains of the wall reveal the existence of two huge towers on either side of
the spring, obviously designed to protect the spring from attack.”

Larsen watched Johnson as he absorbed the new information. “So, why the tunnel?” Johnson
asked.

“Exactly, why the tunnel?” Larsen responded. “Why cut a fifteen-hundred-foot tunnel
when it was not necessary to keep the water supply safe? And,” he said, turning back
to the map, drawing a serpentine shape along the face of the escarpment, “why start
the tunnel from both ends at the same time? Wouldn’t that make the chance of meeting
in the middle nearly impossible? And why this highly irregular ‘S’ course? Contrary
to popular lore, this was not an engineering marvel where the two teams miraculously
converged. From both directions there are numerous dead ends, obvious starts and stops,
as the teams tried to find each other. But the most important question is, why build
it in the first place?”

“Do you think it possible that Abiathar may have used the Siloam Tunnel as his point
of entry to the lower reaches of the Temple?” Johnson asked, tracing the course of
the tunnel with his finger. “That perhaps, if we could gain access to the tunnel from
the Gihon Spring, we may find a hidden point of access that would lead us farther
under the Temple Mount?”

Larsen stretched for a moment. “Can I get you a cup of coffee, or tea?” He walked
over to a sideboard that Johnson had set up with a small coffee urn and carafes of
very hot water. Johnson was expecting a long day.

“Tea, please . . . sugar and lemon,” said Johnson, looking at the maps rather than
at Larsen. “Winthrop, I really appreciate all of your insight. But there’s something
that bothers me about each of the first two possibilities.”

“Go ahead, poke holes in them,” Larsen said, stirring the mugs. “I have issues, too.”

“Well,” said Johnson, “I think the Huldah Gates are interesting, but they are too
close to the Mount itself to really be a ‘secret’ entrance for Abiathar to be constructing
a temple. There would simply be too much activity, too close to the Mount, for it
to be kept a secret.

“The second possibility, the tunnel to the Gihon Spring, is very curious, particularly
now with the information of the wall existing around the spring. It’s farther away
from the activity of the central city, both ends of the tunnel would be close to a
gate, and at night, in darkness, I could see the tunnel being very accessible to a
priest who could have handpicked the guards who were on duty. But the challenge I
have is the direction the tunnel runs, primarily from north to south . . . if you
start at the Gihon Spring, away from the Temple Mount area. And the spring itself
is already several hundred yards south of the Mount enclosure. It’s just an assumption
on my part, but I think Abiathar and his father would have planned to erect their
Third Temple as close as possible to the location of Herod’s Temple, at least to the
foundation of Herod’s Temple. I would think proximity to the Holy of Holies would
have been critical to the Third Temple.”

Larsen startled Johnson, whose attention was thoroughly engrossed in the map, when
he placed the steaming mug of tea in front of him. “Sorry,” Larsen said, placing his
hand on Johnson’s shoulder. “Your reservations are the same as mine. Either one is
possible, but neither one seems perfect. Which brings us to the third possibility.”

Setting his own mug down as he again approached the map, Larsen’s adrenalin surged.
“There is another, recently discovered candidate. A few years ago, archaeologists
uncovered several yards of a wide, underground passage that they speculated had been
used for either sewage or drainage during the Second Temple period. The passage runs
under Tyropoeon Street, directly along and parallel to the Western Wall of the Temple
Mount. So far, all the sources I have checked report that the excavations have not
yet penetrated beneath the Kotel, the Western Wall itself. It is believed by most
researchers that this passage was used by many Jewish leaders for escape during the
Roman conquest of the city. This passage also runs north to south, but in following
the Western Wall, it also passes extremely close to where we believe Herod’s Temple
was located and about as close to the Holy of Holies as one can get. From what I can
determine, this drainage tunnel must be very close to Warren’s Gate.

“In addition to being in close proximity of the Second Temple’s location, this passageway
empties out into the lower part of the Kidron Valley, where the Kidron meets the Himnom,
in an area known as the King’s Garden, just below the Pool of Siloam. Now, that would
have been a very long walk, from the southeast corner of the city, under Siloam, all
the way up to the Temple Mount area. But this passage is wide, it’s high, and it could
have easily been used to transport material to a building site under the Mount.” When
Larsen turned away from the map, he nearly bumped into Johnson.

“That’s it,” said Johnson. “I’d bet my stamp collection on it. That’s it!” Johnson
threw his arm about Larsen’s shoulders and turned him back to the map.

“Well, even if the King’s Garden Tunnel isn’t the way Abiathar made his way into the
Mount,” said Larsen, relaxing now that he had his presentation out of the way, “we’ve
now got at least one route that would give him access that is more than a possibility;
it is an active probability. Doc, I know you think we need to give this to the government.
And I understand the potential danger we face here in New York and once we get to
Israel. But think of this for a moment. If you are worried about a leak from our small
group, what might happen if we share this information with the government? Talk about
a leaking sieve. Right now, all we have is a letter in an unknown language and a hunch.
Is that enough valid information to bring in the State Department? Is this enough
information to risk the Washington press corps getting a hold of it and stampeding
off to speculation after speculation?

“I don’t think so,” said Larsen, as they both returned to the table. “Doc, I believe
we must go to Jerusalem and see if we can discover whether this Third Temple really
exists. If it does, then we take it to the State Department. If it doesn’t exist,
no one is hurt, and we are the only ones who are disappointed.”

Larsen saw the strained look on Johnson’s face, watched while he ran his hand through
the silver mane and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Let me throw two other items into consideration,” said Larsen. “If we all decide
this is the right step for us to take, I’ll finance the entire operation, and we won’t
lack for anything, or any possibility. And before we go, I’ll speak to my uncle.”

“The general?” Johnson asked, raising his eyebrows.

Four-Star General Ethan Allen Larsen—thirty-year veteran of the military service;
twice winner of the Silver Star—was the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, under
the authority of the commander in chief, the president, leader of the entire military
might of the United States of America. While Winthrop’s father had been disappointed
in his son’s choice of a profession, Uncle Ethan had been one of Winthrop’s most steadfast
allies, a man he could trust and on whom he frequently relied for good advice and
wise counsel. The general also played a wicked game of squash, but not with the same
reckless abandon or skill as Winthrop.

“Uncle Ethan’s over at the Pentagon now. I’ll ask him to get us a thermal imaging
scan of Jerusalem, particularly the Temple Mount area, from one of his spy satellites,
along with some high-res, close-up photos of the entire Temple Mount area. I can also
ask him for an up-to-date and complete ‘threat assessment’ for Jerusalem and the Temple
Mount and a capabilities assessment for the security forces of the Waqf and the Islamic
Authority. I’ll tell him it’s for my doctoral thesis. I think he’ll buy it.

“If we go, Doc, one thing is certain. We will be prepared.”

Johnson’s eyes remained locked on Larsen’s. “I hope you are right, Winthrop. For all
of us, I hope you are right.”

“What’s wrong with you, boy? You expect me to believe that sack of spit? Was I born
under a rock in some cave?”

Winthrop Larsen’s ears were burning. “Listen, Uncle Ethan, I was just asking a question
about—”

“Your doctoral thesis my Aunt Nellie’s patoot. Don’t try to play me, Winthrop. Thermal
imaging sat photos, I can buy that if you’re looking for an underground tomb. But
why are you asking me questions about an encrypted satellite phone? What are you up
to, Winthrop? And don’t give me that thesis bull.”

Winthrop was so comfortable talking to his uncle that his question about the encrypted
satellite phone slipped out before his brain could catch it. But Uncle Ethan caught
it . . . Ethan Allen Larson, chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, missed very little.
Winthrop scrambled for a satisfactory answer.

“Uncle Ethan, I’m sorry. Forgive me, sir. I didn’t mean any disrespect.”

“Then what in Sam Hill is going on?”

“I will be looking for hidden tombs in the Kidron Valley. But there’s something else
I’m looking for and . . . well . . . I thought it best you not know the details, sir.
I wanted you to have deniability. Let’s just say I’m going to be out of the Israeli
zone for a while. And a satellite phone that can’t be picked up might come in handy.”

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone. Winthrop held his breath,
trying to grasp control of his racing heart and rising anxiety. He was telling his
uncle the truth . . . sort of . . . at least so far, and he wanted—

“Boy, you worry me sometimes.”

Winthrop didn’t know how to answer. He couldn’t implicate the general in what they
were planning.

“Who’s going to have your back?”

“Sir?”

“Who’s going to have your back? Wherever you’re going, the best plans can turn into
a snake pit in seconds. Who’s going to save your sorry rear end if this escapade of
yours blows up?”

“Well, I . . .”

“Button it, Winthrop, and listen sharp. I’m going to give you a phone number. In ten
minutes, you call this guy. Tell him what you need, then do what he tells you. But
two things, Winthrop.”

“Yes, sir?”

“Don’t ever jerk me around again, boy.”

Guilt and regret cackled in Winthrop’s spirit. “Yes, sir.”

“And Winthrop, don’t worry. I’ve got your back.”

“I—”

“Slap a lid on it, boy. You get your butt in the wringer over there, you call this
guy. I’ll know how to contact you, too, if necessary.”

Winthrop’s love for his uncle caught in his throat.

“Thank you, Uncle Ethan. I’m sorry . . .” Larsen ran out of words.

“Winthrop, you’re like my own son.” The general’s voice had lost all its edge. “I
forgive you. But I won’t forgive you if you get yourself hurt over there. Just don’t
do anything foolish. You listenin’ to me, boy? Keep your powder dry and your head
down. Now, tell me everything about this cockamamy plan of yours and then give me
ten minutes, got that?”

“Yes, sir.” Winthrop felt like saluting.
I don’t deserve that man
.

Sunday night was quiet in the house. Bohannon sat in the old, ugly recliner in his
study. In his lap he held a heavy pile of paper—printouts from Web sites, articles,
and information about Jerusalem and the Temple Mount. Now that they were actually
going to Jerusalem, he felt compelled to learn as much as he could about the city.
Preparation and a sharp memory had been his greatest allies as a reporter, and the
habit was tough to break.